


The Moonlit Path

by MsBluebell



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Vampire Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Because he's a vampire, Betaed by SilviaMoon, Demisexual Keith (Voltron), Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/M, Gay Keith (Voltron), He's still Lance though, Humans are pissed, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Hunk is too pure for this shit, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance McClain: Human Disaster, M/M, Past Abuse, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Slightly Darker than norrmal Lance, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Typical Vampire Violence, Vampire Lance (Voltron), Vampire war, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBluebell/pseuds/MsBluebell
Summary: Keith would have honestly prefered it if a zombie apocalypse happened. Instead, he got vampires.Now, here he was, with a wounded brother and a vampire that insists he wants to protect the both of them. Keith hardly has a choice but to stick around if he wants Shiro to live, but that didn't mean he trusted Lance McClain.





	1. A Brick House

**Author's Note:**

> So this story, due to being a vampire story in general, is going to be slightly darker than normal. I want to try and stick as close to canon characterization as possible, but the situation is going to explore some problematic elements and what leads to them. I've warned you.

You never think of the little things you’ll miss when society collapses.

Keith had thought of what he would miss if a zombie apocalypse happened before things went to shit, had even joked around with Shiro and made fake plans for what they would do once the undead came back to life, never really believing it would happen, and more than happy with that fact. But, when he was thinking about what he would miss, he thought of big things; TV shows, movies, running water, all the shit that would be lost.

He didn’t think of small things like toilet paper or bandages. Small things like that seemed like the kind of stuff that they could go out and find if the zombie apocalypse happened. Sure, it would be dangerous, but it was still something he could work around. Zombies were easy to figure out, and he thinks he could outwit a horde.

But, fuck, what Keith wouldn’t give for zombies instead of what they got.

Keith moves across the wooden floor against the abandoned house, his flashlight trained in front of him as he snuck through the the building. Shiro was resting in the smallest bedroom, safe as he could be while wounded. It was up to him to make sure the older man was safe now, and he’d do everything in his power to make sure _nothing_  touched his brother.

Stupid _fucking_ vampires. God damn went out of their way to destroy humanity and now they just wanted fuck whatever was left. Like killing Shiro and him was just some great game.

The two of them have been lucky so far, they’re three and a half years into this mess and haven’t been caught yet. Most of humanity died before the first month even hit, a lot of the ones left behind had been gathered and put into farms, and a few more who’d gotten away ended up being killed. He and Shiro are part of a _very_  small minority now, and every day that passed was another miracle for them.

Their luck was getting better for the most part though, and they were figuring things out for the most part. Together the two of them had figured out how to take down the ghouls and some of the less powerful vamps. They’ve been able to stumble across what methods work and don’t work for keeping an area safe, or what actually hurts the vampires and what was fake shit. Sure, he and Shiro definitely couldn’t settle in one place for long, but they’re probably doing better than most of the survivors out there…if there were any.

It was probably better than being farmed, at least.

Keith moved, setting down the fine chalk lines that would help keep the ghouls out, the Shinto patterns familiar by now. He was, personally, more comfortable with Hoodoo methods, but they were running low on the supplies for that.

He still had a couple of good Taoist talismans that would work, and they had holy oil they’d raided from a Catholic church they could try out if a vampire found them, but right now Keith felt fairly secure in their location. The house was fairly isolated compared to others, but it was secure enough, and whoever owned it before things went to shit seemed to have a penchant for food that lasted a while. They had plenty of uncooked noodles and a few canned items. It was definitely a place that would last them the time they needed for Shiro to recover, and Keith could only thank whatever God out there decided to finally get off their ass and help them out a bit.

Now he could only hope that they could last here without something worse than ghouls or weaker vamps finding them.

The violet eyed youth bit his lip as he finished putting the finishing touches around the house. He’d put the most seals up in Shiro’s room, of course, but hopefully this would slow down any vamp that tried to get through.

The vampire apocalypse, surprisingly, didn’t have a lot of vampires. Most of the danger came from the mindless ghouls that the vampires made. They were a lot like zombies, but about a hundred times worse. For a start they were a bit smarter, a lot faster, and much stronger. There weren’t hordes of them though, or he and Shiro would have long been fucking dead, but there were enough that Keith didn’t feel comfortable staying in one spot long.

A ghoul he could handle, that was simple, but the ghoul brought greater danger. Vampires, even less powerful ones, were harder to kill, and they could see through the eyes of the ghouls they made if they were so inclined, so even if they killed a ghoul it wasn’t safe to linger in an area for long.

They didn’t have a choice this time though, not with Shiro as wounded as he was, so Keith was just going to have to get ready for whatever came. He’d defend his brother with his life if he had to, and no vamp was gonna touch the man again.

Feeling the raw determination set in, Keith nodded to himself, taking the time to rifle through the cabinets to see if he could find anything to help Shiro. They’d raided a few pharmacies, carrying as much as they could, but they were going through water quicker than medicine.

Unfortunately, whoever used to own this house seemed to think that bottled water was a waste of money, so all they had was soda cans and juices that had long since gone bad. They could drink the soda, at least, but that wasn’t going to do Keith any good for cleaning Shiro’s wounds.

He did hit the jackpot when he found bottles of liquor though, and some rubbing alcohol under the sink, so he’d be able to help Shiro fight off infection. Hopefully the whiskey would help numb the older man a bit and get him to sleep. Taking care of the missing arm was going to be hell, and the man deserved to sleep through the pain. It wasn’t going to help much when he had to take the pills though…

Keith cursed as he moved his found supplies into the bedroom, sneaking so he didn’t wake his brother. Shiro was sleeping pitifully, his face drawn in pain, the cauterized wound on his newly lost arm still fresh and bandaged. The pale boy set the supplies down, arranging them so they’d be good and ready if he needed them. He silently left the room, moving to check outside to gauge the sun’s position in the sky. His watch said that there should be a few more hours left until sunset, but you just never knew anymore. Daylights savings could have passed for all Keith knew, and he didn’t want to risk night falling an hour earlier and getting killed just because he didn’t check.

He moved back inside, confident that he could set everything up before nightfall.

* * *

When night did come, Keith was ready.

Shiro was tucked safety into the bed Keith had pushed into the farthest corner. He’s deep in sleep, blissfully knocked out and free from the pain for the moment. Keith is on the edge of the bed, silver knife in hand and ready to fight if anything gets finds them, and close enough to help Shiro if anything goes wrong during the night.

He’s running on only four hours' worth of sleep from the last two days though, and he’s not entirely confident he could take too many ghouls if they _did_  somehow make it through. Still, he’s more than ready to die taking those things out if it meant protecting Shiro for even a bit longer.

His grip tightens around the hilt of the blade, white knuckled and shaking. Every little noise is enough to set him on edge. His whole body feels tense and exhausted, and every little creak of the floorboards makes his skin crawl.

Shiro’s steady breathing does a little to comfort him, but it’s not enough to fight the tense atmosphere. The hallowed wind makes everything feel so much worse, and every hair on his body stands on edge. Violet eyes flicker over the dimmed room, checking over and over for threats that weren’t there…

Yet.

He keeps his ears sharpened, the knife ever ready, Shiro’s breaths still steady. He’s so damned tired, but he’ll die before he lets _anything_  touch his brother again.

It’s another hour, one that feels like eternity, before he hears anything.

The soft growling of a ghoul, its claws wreaking across the outside walls, it’s growling growing louder and louder as its feet snapped twigs beneath them outside. It hadn’t found their scent yet, hopefully wouldn’t, but Keith was ready for it if it came.

The growls grew louder and louder as the thing circled the house. It was an awful sound, and the nails scratching against the brick walls. It wasn’t trying to work itself inside yet, just trailing along the wall as it hunted for tonight’s prey. Hopefully it would spot a rat or something and go away.

No such luck.

The thing must have found something close to the wall, because it began rapidly scratching at a particular spot over and over again. Keith wasn’t sure what it was doing, because even with its claw and superior strength it would take days for it to break through a brick wall. Still, he kept his eyes trained in the direction of the noise, more than ready for a fight if the thing actually did manage to get through.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

There were a lot of things about Zarkon’s fucking temper tantrum that Lance hated. One, he was _never_  going to see the next season of his favorite show, which ended on a fucking cliff hanger, because of that bastard. Second, he was never going to figure out how the second Infinity War movie ended because he couldn’t find a hardcopy of the damned thing _anywhere,_ also leaving him on a fucking cliff hanger. And third, he was never going to get some good ice cream at midnight again.

Oh, and did he forget the fact that most of the human population was dead? Because that happened too and he was pissed about it.

Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that the humans that were _left,_ after Zarkon made it his personal mission to be worse than Hitler, Stalin, and Caligula combined, hated vampire kind for the whole genocide thing. So, yeah, thanks for that Zarkon, you absolute fuck stick.

Lance growled as he pinched the bridge of his nose, everything had been _fine_  before Zarkon lost his fucking mind, but now things have gone to absolute shit. Not only were most of the higher classed vampires left dazed and confused after the sudden and unexpected power shift, leaving everyone scrambling to try and fix the aftermath of what had happened, but Zarkon’s fanatic followers, the Galra they called themselves, had gone _crazy_  making ghouls and fledglings without actually taking responsibility for them. So on top of _everything else_  the bastards had fucked over, they’d also left the lands _crawling_  with dangerous pests that made it _even harder_  for sensible vamps like him and Allura to clean up this mess.

And then, _and then,_ the few of Zarkon’s minions that had brain cells in their heads realized that, _maybe,_ killing off all the people who provided their main food source was a bad idea and started collecting what few humans they could find and keeping them in a creepy ass zoo and away from other vampires who desperately needed the blood.

That and making it _much_  harder for vampires to find their brides.

So, yeah, fuck Zarkon.

Allura had been building a coalition to fight against him and get back the humans he’d captured for months now, but it was hard when most of the vamps they had were starving and everyone else hated them. The few werewolves left were out for blood, and there were even less witches left.

Lance kicked a stray rock and watched it hit a nearby tree as he moved through the forest, his whole body was on edge as he sniffed out the pests scrambling across _his_  territory. He’d been one of the smarter vamps back before things went to shit, and had kept up some friendships with the people he had working in his nightclub, so when things went to shit he was able to get his employees and a few other people to relative safety. Now he was one of the vampires with the most humans under his protection at the moment.

Which meant that a lot of ghouls liked to try and run around in his territory.

Lance wasn’t a fool though, he kept the humans under his protection safely locked in his club during the night, away from desperate fledglings who would drain them dry or vicious ghouls who would rip them apart.

Or worse, lead their masters to them.

Lance growled, stalking through the tree line as he moved towards the growling sounds of a wild ghoul. He hated being outside the city, but it was better to kill these things before they got too close. As the newfound “Lord” of this territory it was his job to make sure that the _entire_  area was safe for people to walk. He didn’t want any of the people under his protection running into ghouls that had hidden away in attics or something during the day.

So here he was, trekking through the damn woods, out to show whatever idiot had sent another damn ghoul into his territory that Lance McClain _wasn’t fucking around_.

The place the ghoul had been spotted was on the very outskirts of his territory, just on the shaky border between his territory and one of the Galra’s. Lance had been pushing back against the man since he’d settled into the area, and he was slowly making leeway. Now, with the man letting his ghoul loose on Lance’s land, the tanned vampire would have a good damn excuse to pull out some of his allies and start taking the rest of the bastard’s land.

But first he had to take care of the ghoul.

He found it about a quarter mile into his territory, clawing at an abandoned brick house like it spotted something it wanted but didn’t know how to get through without brute strength. Probably a dead rat in the piping or something.

Lance let out a low hiss, drawing the ghoul's attention. The thing turned its blank, glowing, eyes toward him. It’s snarling face settling on him as it’s nostrils flared, scenting him, before turning away in a show of submissiveness. Mindless as these things were, they at least recognized when something more powerful than them came along.

Still, the thing wasn’t smart enough to outright give up, it would only take a moment to forget why it submitted in the first place, especially if whatever was in the building started bleeding.

Lance stepped closer, ready to just rip the things head off and get the whole mess over with, but as moved closer a sound caught his attention. His ears perked, and he had to adjust himself a bit to hear the sound underneath the guttural sound of the ghoul’s snarls.

Breathing.

A pained grunt.

 _Someone was inside the house_. Someone that needed to breath. He had to hurry up and kill that ghoul so he could investigate. Lance moved, reaching over to grab the ghoul’s hair, jerking it away from the brick wall. The thing gave a scream, trying to launch itself back, but Lance ripped its head off before it could do anything else.

It fell to the ground, it’s mouth gapping at him as it tried to bite at him, trying in vain to inflict harm on him. Lance dropped the head, crushing it beneath his heel, for once not even caring if his designer shoes were ruined.

He gleefully moved and pressed his hands against the wall, putting his ear to it as he tried to listen for whoever was inside, trying to make sure that it was really a human being and not some stray dog or something else that he could have mistaken for a person.

He strained his ears as much as he could, using his superior hearing to pick out what was sounding inside. Two sets of breath, quiet as could be, barely a whisper to the ears. Two heartbeats, one sleeping and the other rhythmically pounding, aware of the dangers outside and what must have stopped the ghoul.

Lance spotted a boarded window, smiling smugly as he walked up to it. He sniffed, scenting out the window. Garlic. There was a sting of garlic hanging on the other side of the window, ready to keep ghouls and fledgling vampires out.

Lance wasn’t a fledgling vampire.

He pressed his hand against the wood, giving the slightest push as he rolled the glass open, breaking both glass and wooden boards in the process.

The scent of garlic burned, almost making Lance want to instinctively run away, but he’s been around long enough to learn to control himself. He pushes the window open carefully, ignoring the burning sensation as he peeks a blue eye inside.

It burns, oh it _burns,_ but Lance can only grin.

It had to have been a human who set this up, a clever one at that. There were _seals_  on the walls. Most people who knew what to do about vampires had been killed or farmed early on before anyone knew what was happening. This was a rare treat. A _very_  rare treat.

He’d take them back home and make sure to protect them for sure. Not that he wouldn’t take them back to the club anyway, but brains were definitely a bonus.

Lance peeked a glowing, blue, eye into the window. There was a boy inside, pale and slim. He was worn, that much was obvious, but he had a set glare and a knife gripped in a white knuckled hand. His clothes were in tatters, and his black hair had grown into a _mullet_  of all things, which was just plain ridiculous in Lance’s humble opinion. Poor thing, they’d have to take care of that later.

The boy was obviously guarding another man, heavily wounded and panting a bit, a fresh scar on his face. With the window open now, the smell of the man’s charred flesh filled Lance’s senses, making the tanned vampire wrinkle his nose in disgust. Further observation showed that the man was freshly missing an arm.

That wound would need treatment, Lance frowned, _serious_  treatment. The two had obviously done their best with what they had, but at the rate the man was going he would die.

Time to be a hero.

Lance crawled inside the building, breaking the glass of the window fully as he forced his way inside. The seals burned horribly, horrifically even, and Lance couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge of pride for the two, because this was _good_  work if it was burning _him_  like this.

No wonder they survived so long.

Lance is barely inside the building, writhing in pain from breaking through the seals, when the knife, a silver blade by the feel of it, is stabbed almost perfectly through his chest.

Blue eyes looked up, meeting violet eyes set in most heated glare he’d ever seen, and he thinks he’s never seen anything more gorgeous in his entire life.


	2. A Silver Knife

Keith held tightly to his silver knife, hand shaking with anticipation as the noises outside suddenly became silent. He stood, creeping soundlessly as he could towards the wall the noise had previously came from, tracing his fingers lightly over the wall as he moved towards the window. He stopped just shy of the glass, placing his back against the wall as he moved to _just_  peek into the outside.

He could vaguely make out a shape moving towards the window. The movements of a humanoid shape moving much too smoothly to be the ghoul that had been scratching at the walls only moments ago.

Shit.

It was a vampire.

Keith turned away from the window, forcing himself to breathe more silently as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat. His hands shook much more violently now, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He swallowed a lump in his throat, waiting for the vamp to leave.

He needed to calm down. There were so many seals and charms around the house that the vampire could never hope to get in. The creature would burn alive trying.

Keith exhaled, exhausted.

The window rattled a bit as the vampire moved closer, trying to work its way inside. He heard a hiss from the other side. The telltale sound of slowly cracking glass rang through his ears, along with the sound of sizzling flesh.

Was the vampire seriously trying to break in right now?

There was no way, with the amount of precautions Keith had taken the vampire should have burned to ashes by now. There was _no way_  that the vamp could make it through.

Except it did.

The glass of the window shattered past him, hitting the floor with force as a body crawled through the newly made opening. Keith had to squint to see, but what he could make out was a horrifying sight, with the vampire moving on all fours with boiled skin and a half melted face.

Keith moved on instinct, moving in front of the persistent vamp before it could recover. He raised his knife, shoving the silver blade into the thing’s chest with a loud cry. The blade sank into the flesh, just barely missing the heart as the cursed creature happened to fall a bit to the side while it stumbled inside.

It lifted its glowing eyes, the luminescent blue orbs snapped upwards. Keith froze for a moment, a thrill of fear filling him as those hungry eyes drilled into his own. Those eyes weren’t like the other vampires he’d met. They were cold, calculating…

Sane.

Keith yanks the knife out of the thing’s chest, suddenly aware of how deep the danger he was in went. He needed to take this thing out _now_ , before it could recover from the seals and his blow and kills them both.

He aims the knife for a second blow.

The vampire grabs his wrist in a vice like grip, the melted skin cooled now as the fingers dug into Keith’s own skin. The pale boy yelped, tugging harshly, only to find no release. He flipped the knife in his hand, moving to grab it with his free hand, only for the vampire to grab that wrist and slam them to the ground, dragging Keith’s whole body down with them as he found himself _pinned_  by the monster.

The vampire crawled over him, the blue eyes still drilling in to his as it leaned closer and closer to Keith’s face, its nose fully reconstructed as he leaned in to sniff at the pale boy’s neck. The ravenette struggled, kicking his feet roughly and growling as he tried desperately to knock the creature off of him.

Keith nicked the creature’s hand with the knife, causing the thing to hiss and pull its hand away for a brief moment. The pale boy took the chance to slam the knife into the attacker’s chest, watching again as it just _barely_  missed the heart, but the vampire having shifted just enoug. Keith growled in frustration as he pulled the knife out, a flow of dead blood hitting his face as he moved to try for another thrust to the heart..

The vampire was apparently tired of Keith fighting back and grabbed his wrist again. This time the vampire pried his fingers open, peeling the knife out of the ravenette’s hand. Keith hissed, struggling to keep the weapon, but the vampire tossed it across the room and slammed his wrist down again.

“Shhhh.” The vampire whispered, “Shhhh, don’t fight me.”

Keith fought him, struggling to escape before the vampire _bit_  him. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart pumping heavily. Fear coursed through him, because this is the closest he’d _ever_  been to being bitten by a vampire.

Oh God, he was going to die here, and Shiro wouldn’t be far behind him.

“Shhhh, shhhh, no.” The vampire responds, “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Keith didn’t believe _that_  for a damn moment. He’d seen what happened when vampires bit people, heard the screams, watched the way the creatures lapped up the blood. It was something painful and horrifying, with screaming victims desperately trying to claw away while sharp teeth ripped their necks apart.

The pale boy trashed, kicking and squirming, determined to fight until the very damn end. The fear gave him an extra boost of strength, and he was able to almost wriggle his way from under the vamp before he was dragged back, his back rubbing raw against the floor as the vampire dug his nose into the crook of Keith’s neck.

“I should have known you wouldn’t believe me.” The vampire nuzzles his neck lovingly, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to let our first bite be like _this_.”

Keith hissed, struggling more as the vampire brushed the tip of his nose along his neckline, the lack of breath unnerving in its own right. It didn’t help that he could _feel_  the skin reconstructing on the vampire’s face.

"What’s your name beautiful?” The vampire whispers the question.

“Fuck you.” Keith spits, kneeing the vampire in the stomach. It didn’t do anything other than make the vampire huff a bit, amused by his attempts to _not die._

The vampire hummed, pulling away a bit to peer down at the struggling boy with those awful eyes, “Stubborn too, I’m not sure if I like that.”

Keith grunts, yanking away from the vampire and trying to crawl away. The vampire drags him back, though, with his fingers digging harshly into pale skin. The adrenaline is wearing off now, and Keith he knows he’s falling back into panic now, clawing at the flooring as the vampire drags him into a hold.

“Poor thing.” The vampire coos, “How long have you two been out here?”

Keith feels ice running through his veins, because now the vampire was _mocking_  him. He was playing around, and that couldn’t possibly be a good thing for Keith, much less the limp and unconscious Shiro. Still, he’s determined not to show how scared he is, instead sneering at the vampire, “How long do you _think_?”

The vampire tsked, leaning his mostly reformed face against Keith’s neck again, “You won’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ll take care of you.”

Oh.

 _Oh fuck_.

He was going to take them to a fucking farm. Shit, fuck, that was much worse than dying. Keith felt another adrenaline spike as he spit into the creature’s eyes and wormed his way out of the monster’s grip again, turning to crawl towards his tossed knife. The vampire hissed, cleaning his eye.

“This isn’t working.” The vampire hissed, rubbing his eye clean.

Keith’s pale fingers are just on his knife again when he feels two hands grip his hips and sling him off the floor. For a moment, Keith is sailing through the air with nothing but hands on his hips and knife gripped tightly in his hands, and the next he’s slammed into the wall.

His head whips back and smacks against the wall harshly, and his loses his grip on the knife. An image flashes in front of his eyes, and for a moment he sees a long forgotten foster father standing over him. His heart is in his throat, and in a moment of weakness he almost lets out a sob as the pain explodes across his sore and used body.

“I’m so sorry about this beautiful.” The vampire whispers, “I promise that when you wake up things will be _much_  better for you.”

Keith hisses, glaring hatefully as black splotches swim across his vision. His head is pounding with pain, and everything is so dizzy. He grips his head, trying to fight off the pain, a high ringing noise piercing his ears, but it’s too much.

Shiro, he has to get to Shiro.

He takes all of one step before he’s falling weakly against the vampire, his body slumped against the healed body as the creature wraps his arms almost lovingly across his back. Keith hisses, able to look up into those eyes before the blackness overtakes his vision.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you both.” He hears, feeling fingers come up to brush against his hair. Then he’s gone to the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and the short chapter. Between recovering from season six and my other fics I've been a mess. I hope this tides you guys over until we get to the real shit next chapter.
> 
> For questions, comments, or requests please follow me at my Tumblr @ [msbluebell](http://msbluebell.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. A Blue Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes up and isn't overly happy.

Waking from a deep sleep after so long going with barely rested naps was a disorienting experience. Over the last three and a half years Keith had gotten used to being shaken awake by his brother. Waking up from one on his own felt wrong somehow, more lonely and unsafe than he’d ever felt before. It was the first sign that something was terribly, terribly, wrong.

Working through his blurry thoughts into something a bit more alert, Keith very quickly became aware of the second sign. He was in a bed that was way too comfortable for the apocalypse. That isn’t to say he hadn’t slept on a bed in the last few years, but they all felt dirty and torn, neglected or broken after society fell apart. This bed felt clean, with silk sheets rubbing against his skin in a soft embrace. It was definitely the softest bed he’d ever laid on too, it felt like something a rich jerk probably slept in before the world fell apart.

The next sign was that he was clean. It wasn’t that he hadn’t washed in a while, but chances for baths or showers were few and far in between, and it had been a few months since he’d gotten a chance to bathe in a river that no ghouls or vamps had been near, and even then he’d only been able to shave very briefly. Right now it felt clean and fresh, his body having been shaved. Even his legs felt smooth against the silk pajamas he found himself wearing. He rubbed his legs against one another, feeling strange at the hairlessness. He used to shave them before, but he had gotten used to the hair since then.

The third sign was the chains around his wrists.

Violet eyes blinked open, black splotches swimming across his vision as he leaned forward and gripped his forehead, trying to fight off the wave of nausea. His vision cleared after a few moments and he blinked away the last of the black spots to study his new prison.

The room was very blue. Really, really, blue. There was blue carpets and blue painted walls, and the bed had blue bedsheets with blue pillows and a blue veil falling around it. The lightbulbs, _working_  light bulbs shined blue, and there was even a working fish tank of all things that covered the entire wall across from him. It shined blue as well, tinting the room in its watery light, with fish swimming nice and alive in the clean water.

Who the fuck had working light bulbs and clean fish tanks anymore? Where were they getting the electricity?

Keith tried to move and examine the tank, even managing to get off the bed, but the chains around his wrist pulled tight after only a few steps. He glared at the metal bindings, the clasps were thick and heavy, and the chains looked equally strong. He was also in different clothes, meaning his lockpicks were gone. The raven haired boy tugged a bit, testing the strength of the headboard the chains were attached to, but nothing gave.

Alright, he was trapped.

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep, calming, breath. He walked back to the bed, crawled to the middle, sat cross-legged, reached for the pillow, and buried his face in it as he let out a barely muffled scream of rage.

Was this immature? Yes. But it was also the only thing he could think of to unleash his rage without alerting whoever captured him that he was awake. He couldn’t damn well punch the wall right now, and if there’s one thing he learned over the last few years it was that loud noise was a quick way to get yourself killed.

He dropped the pillow in his lap, letting out a heavy sigh as he ran his pale, and apparently neatly manicured, fingernails through his freshly styled and washed hair. He leaned his head back, staring at the roof where a crystal fucking chandelier was hanging, and let out a long breath as he tired to figure out what the hell was going on.

He closed his eyes and tried to think about what happened before this. He had…he had been with Shiro…and…and Shiro was hurt…

Keith’s stomach dropped, his throat going dry as his eyes snapped open. Shiro was hurt, and he was nowhere to be seen. The pale boy felt a cold wave of fear wash over him, shoulders shaking horribly as he realized that his brother was _gone_  and he was trapped here, all dolled up and chained, waiting for…for…

 _The vampire_.

He sucked in a sharp breath, the cold fear washing through him again. He’d been caught. He had let a vampire catch him _and Shiro_  while his brother was hurt. The vampire had been weirdly powerful, getting past all the seals and surviving the fight. Keith had been a helpless kitten compared to that horrific monster with its melted face and spidery limbs.

That monster had taken them.

That’s why he was here.

Was the vampire taking steps to get them ready for the farm? Was dolling him up and making him clean part of the process? Or was he already in the farm and this was just what it was like to be in one? The room was fancy enough for one of the older, more uppity, vampires. Had the one who caught him decided to keep him as a personal pet?

Keith hissed, eyes snapping open as he glared at the ceiling. What had the vamp done with Shiro? Was his brother in a different room awaiting the same fate? Or had he been eaten already? The older man was heavily wounded, and Keith knew the chances of him making it were low, especially without treatment. Vampires wouldn’t waste the time or resources to save his brother, even if it meant losing good blood.

The boy hissed again, not liking the idea at all. He tugged at his chains again, fruitlessly trying to break free from his bondage. He growled as the chains remained unscratched, giving up and slumping against the bed.

He had to get out of here and find Shiro somehow.

There had to be _something_  here he could pick the lock with, something within reach of the bed…

Keith threw himself up, an idea springing to mind as he crawled off the bed. He fell to the floor, wriggling his way under the bed. It was a bit tight, but the bed was high enough off the ground that his shoulders squeezed under far enough to reach out. He fiddled with the bed corners a bit, frustrated to find this was a springless bed with some sort of memory foam mattress. He had to look elsewhere for something, going towards the bed corner to see if he could find a loose bit of metal. Unfortunately, the whole bed was held together by wood and screws.

“Stupid, rich, assholes.” Keith grumbled, crawling out from under the bed, “Who doesn’t have springs in their mattresses?”

He sat on the end of the bed, frustrated. That plan failed, obviously, and he couldn’t reach anything else in the room that would be able to help him get out of these chains. He was stuck here in this stupid room while his brother was probably dead or being eaten.

Violet eyes turned to a wall and glared at an overly large painting of the sea and the sharks beneath it. The frame alone was probably worth more than all of the stuff Keith had in his old room, and probably had plenty of loose wires and other metal bits that would be perfect for picking the cuffs if only he could reach it.

He growled in frustration, running his hands through his hair again. He couldn’t get used to how clean he felt. He picked at the buttons of his red silk pajamas, needing something to do with his hands as he tried to _think._  

A harsh knock sounded through the room, causing the pale boy to jump. He stood, falling into a defensive stance as his eyes trained on the massive double doors. There was another knock, followed by a series of muffled arguing when Keith didn’t answer. After a few moments the voices quieted down, and one of the massive doors cracked open. Keith tensed, sucking in a breath as he waited for what was to come.

“Hello?” A meek voice asked, a larger tanned _human_  man peeking inside the door. Brown eyes trained on him, and the man shyly slipped inside, holding what looked like a tray of food, “O-Oh, you’re awake.”

Violet eyes narrowed on the man, studying him further. He was taller than him, and dressed in relatively clean yellow clothing. Than man shifted from foot to foot timidly, biting his lip nervously before finally speaking again, “W-Well, I’m Hunk…and…uh…I’ll be bringing you food while you’re…here…I guess?”

“And how long _am_  I going to be here exactly?” Keith hissed, glaring harshly at the man.

The man flinched back, “Um…ah…I don’t know…um…until Lance is sure you won’t attack him?”

Keith growled, rubbing his temples to try and stave off the headache he could already feel forming, “And who, exactly, is Lance?”

The guy eyed the door nervously, biting his lip and looking like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, “He’s the one who brought you here.”

It was Keith’s turn to flinch back now, hissing as the words hit him. He glared much more harshly now, much more hatefully, and tightening his body as he readied to go on the aggressive, “The _vampire?”_

“Yeah…” The guy, Hunk, shifted again. He placed the tray down on a table, still staying across the room and well out of Keith’s reach, “Look man, I get it. If I were you I’d be suspicious too.

You were probably out there a long time and don’t have a reason to believe that any vampires are nice after…well…everything.”

Keith growled again, deciding to cut through all the bush beating get right to the point, “Where is my brother and what are you planning to do with us?”

Hunk took a deep breath, seeming to grow braver now that he knew where Keith’s priorities lay, “If you’re talking about the guy with the missing arm then he’s in the medical bay. We’ve got actual medicine and stuff and we’re helping him out.”

“Why?” Keith demanded, taking a threatening step forward, the chain around his wrist chiming as he made the harsh movement. He didn’t trust this, not for one moment. Just because this guy was human didn’t mean he wasn’t planning something, _especially_  if he was working with the vampire that attacked them. The guy was likely some kind of slave, Keith concluded, even if he did seem a little too well treated to be part of a farm.

Unless he was some sort of traitor.

Keith couldn’t work around why anyone would willingly work for a species that were actively trying to collect humanity and farm them. The way the ravenette figured it, the guy must have negotiated in some way in order to be treated well. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He couldn’t exactly blame the guy, but he couldn’t fully respect him either. It probably wasn’t fair considering the overwhelming power the vampires had over them, but Keith was angry, frightened, worried and very alone right now and this guy was the one that was here when Shiro wasn’t.

Hunk seemed to have worked out what he wanted to say by now. He straightened up, standing tall as his eyes flickered over Keith, “What’s your name?”

“None of your business.” Keith spit, “Answer me, what are you going to do to us?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” The man held his hands up, taking a cautious step forward. He was still well out of Keith’s reach, but the large man was risking inching closer now, which was a sign of _something_  as far as the pale boy was concerned. Brown eyes met violet, and the man spoke in what must be his most soothing voice, “I know you’re freaked out right now, but I promise we’re not here to hurt you.”

“Liar.” Keith hissed hatefully, tugging at the chains on his wrists.

“I know it looks bad.” Hunk smoothed, “And you don’t have any reason to believe us, but I promise that we’re not here to hurt you or your brother. We’re a community of humans _and_  vampires trying to rebuild society.”

 _“What?”_ Keith spit, “Why the _hell_  would any vampire want to do that after the shit they’ve pulled?”

“I know, seems impossible right? Especially after three years of running around in the woods and fighting off all those ghouls and rapid vampires?” The guy nodded, “That must have been rough. I don’t know how you did it man, I would have died in, like, the first day.”

“You get used to it.” Keith shook his head, not giving an inch.

“Well, you don’t have to be used to it any more.” Hunk explained, his hands still raised as he took another step forward, “I’ve been working here since before the apocalypse happened, and I can promise you that not all vampires were on board with the killing people and taking over the world thing. A lot of them were _way_  happier when blood banks were around. The guys who caused all of this? They’re a group of fanatics that came out of nowhere and started all of this. The community you’re in is one of the factions trying to fight back and get things back to normal. Or…as normal as we can get after all…this…”

He waved his hands around, gesturing around the room, trying to encapsulate the feeling of the entire world around him and all the chaos and suffering that had come in the last three or so years alone.

Keith eyed him warily, not trusting this supposed benevolent utopia stick the other boy was trying to sell, “Is that what the vampires told you?”

“No.” The other boy shook his head, “It's what I’ve watched since the beginning of all this mess. I’m not trying to lie to you or lead you into a false sense of security, dude, there wouldn’t be a point. If you were at a farm then we wouldn’t need to lie to you about it, you’d be collared and locked in a house already.”

Keith made an annoyed grunt, gesturing at the chains around his wrist.

“Okay, bad example.” Hunk sighed, “That’s probably not helping much, is it?”

Keith shook his head.

“Well…to be fair it still wouldn’t make sense to go through all the effort to convince you that we’re friendly when the vampires could just force feed off of you.”

He had a point. A vampire _could_  just force him down and feed on him like this, but at the same time Keith didn’t actually ease his defensive stance either. He didn’t trust that easily, and he _wouldn’t_  trust anyone here until he saw his brother was really safe and sound. Even then he wouldn’t drop his guard.

“I want to see my brother.” He demanded.

Hunk winched again, shifting uncomfortably, “I…can’t do that yet.”

Keith felt his already flared temper burn over, “ _And why not_?”

Hunk flinched again, “Because…ah…we’re still not sure it’s safe to let you out yet. We’ve got a _lot_  of vampires living here, and no offence, but you’ve been spending over three years running around constantly on the run and fighting back vampires. It’s not that we think you’ll attack someone on _purpose,_ but you’ve probably got some serious PTSD going on. And…ugh…probably an unconscious hatred of vampires from all of…that…we need to work through first.”

“I just want to see my brother.” Keith’s voice was harsh, low and guttural, “I _need_  to know he’s alright.”

“And I _promise_  we’ll update you on his condition.” Hunk tried to placate him again, “But right now he’s _way_  too sick to move, and _you’re_  probably not mentally stable enough to let out into the community right now.”

“Than have someone _escort_  me.” Keith snapped, rubbing his temples, “I just want to see him.”

“Listen, I get it, he’s your brother and you’re worried, and you probably don’t entirely believe me when I say he’s safe and alright.” Hunk took a step back at the growing hostility, “But, dude, I’m serious about the PTSD thing. You just got back into civilization, and you haven’t gotten any help yet. We don’t know if even _seeing_  a vampire is enough to make you snap, and we don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Can’t you just handcuff me or something?” Keith felt his head throbbing painfully.

Hunk shook his head, “Not wanting anyone else to get hurt means also not wanting _you_  to get hurt.”

The raven haired boy shook his head angrily, “So, what? I’m just supposed to _trust_  a bunch of strangers that chained me up when they say my brother is okay?”

Hunk frowned at that, “Okay, yeah, I can see why you’re unhappy there.”

Keith made a frustrated noise, yanking the chains around his wrists angrily, their jiggling loud as they emphasized his rage.

“Yeah, we’ll think of something, but we can’t let you out right now.” Hunk sighed, deflating visibly, “Lance told me how you reacted to him when you met.”

“He broke into my shelter.” Keith growled, “He was _melting_  and broke through the seals I set up. What was I supposed to do?”

Hunk raised an eyebrow at that, “Okay, he didn’t tell me about the melting part. I’ll talk to him about that before he comes to see you.”

Violet eyes widened as the pale boy jerked back, _“What?”_

Hunk shifted again, rubbing the back of his head, “Yeeeaaahhhh. Lance is kind of, like, the de facto leader of the community. We’ve got a council and all, but he’s the guy _in charge,_ y’know? Since these are all his buildings and whatnot.”

“And why is _he_  coming to see me?” Keith demanded.

The tanned man seemed deeply uncomfortable as he scratched the back of his head again, “He’s…um…the one who found you, so he wants to be the one to take responsibility for you.”

It smelled an awful lot like bullshit to Keith, who wrinkled his nose, “Okay, want to try telling me the truth?”

“Listen…ughh…I still don’t have your name.” Hunk offered sheepishly.

“Will you take me to my brother if I give it to you?” Keith asked with a raised brow.

The man shook his head.

Keith gave a frustrated sigh, feeling some of the fight drain out of him as he slumped against the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He laid there for a few minutes, his body and soul weary, before he felt the bed dip next to him.

“Hey.” Hunk’s voice was gentle again, “I know the situation sucks, but you’ll be able to see your brother soon. Lance isn’t evil or anything, he just doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Keith moved his arm a bit, peeking at the larger man next to him, “And what does this “Lance” want with me?”

Hunk hesitated for a bit, thinking over his words carefully, “I wasn’t lying when I said he wants to be the one who takes care of you.”

Keith knew that interrogating the guy any further would just lead to them talking in circles at this point, so he decided to move on and get more information about his situation, “So, am I staying here then? This is a really nice room for a guy you think is mentally unstable.”

Hunk winched again, his face twisting again, “Ahhh, about that…yeah…this is Lance’s bedroom.”

 _“What?”_ Violet eyes snapped wide open, the pale boy throwing himself up, _“Why?”_

The deeply tanned man looked very awkward here, “He’s…ah…very serious about making sure you integrate into the community. He’s very determined that you live a long and happy life here, so much that he’s seeing to your recovery himself.”

Keith raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

“He’s _very_  determined.” Hunk emphasized again.

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that, so he let his mouth speak for him, “In _his room_?”

“He says it’s the safest place for you.” Hunk scratched his cheek this time, “We haven’t exactly been in this situation before. Most people who weren’t already living here died. You and your brother are actually the first outsiders we’ve found _alive.”_

That sent a cold shiver down Keith’s spine. He knew, objectively, that there were very few others living out there, but the idea that he and Shiro were the _only_  ones this supposedly friendly community found? That just made his throat dry.

“Its actually been the talk of the town.” Hunk tried to smile.

“So this Lance guy didn’t know what to do with us and decided keeping a personal eye on me was the best course of action?” Keith summarized.

Hunk’s eyes widened, his arms moving frantically as he tried to deny Keith’s statement, “No! No, it’s not like that! You’re not a…a…a _prisoner_  or anything.”

“Then what is this?” Keith asked, gesturing towards the chain.

Hunk grimaced, “…Insurance?...”

Keith leveled an unimpressed look at the man.

Hunk tries to twist his grimace into a smile, “Well, to be fair, Lance is sleeping in his guest room while you’re here. So it's not like he’s _sleeping_  with you or anything.”

“Why didn’t he just put me in that room?” Keith asked flatly.

Hunk didn’t seem to know how to answer that. Instead the man just stood up and walked over towards the forgotten tray, plucking it up and walking it over to set it on the bed. He sat down for a moment, shaking his head, before finally looking at Keith again, “I honestly don’t know.”

Keith was still very unimpressed with the answer.

Hunk shook his head, obviously thrown now that he realized how ridiculous the whole situation was. He just kept shaking his head in disbelief, seemingly unable to accept this reality, standing up and walking towards the door, “You know what, you’re calm enough now and I explained what I could to you. Lance can explain the rest to you when he gets here. There’s your lunch, I’ll be back for dinner.”

With that Hunk walked out the room, leaving Keith alone and frustrated with nothing but a sandwich, an apple, and a cup of water.

Keith paused, doing a double take.

 _They had bread_?

When was the last time he had _bread_? Apples, yeah, there were plenty of wild fruit trees and vegetable patches during summer. Bread? Bread had to be made from wheat and flour and plenty of effort. It wasn’t something farms bothered with, too complicated for just keeping cattle healthy.

Keith reached over, plucking the sandwich from the plate. The bread was soft, fresh, like it was just picked up from a bakery and sliced for this meal. There was _meat_  on this, and lettuce and…and…

Keith took a bite of the sandwich, his brain apparently dying for a moment and throwing caution to the wind, because he didn’t even worry about poison or roofies. He was eating _meat_  again, turkey It tasted like, and cheese. And it tasted so good that he honest to God thought he might cry.

This. This was a _lot_ more convincing than anything that Hunk had said. The fact that they bothered with _bread_  and cheese said a lot more than empty promises ever could. He still didn’t trust this place for shit, _especially not the vampire_ , but this was a clear sign of effort. Or that the ruse went far deeper than they thought. A happy and willing farm probably sounded a lot better than an unwilling one.

Still, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d taken that first bite.

“Shit.” Keith hissed, biting into the food again, because this was the best thing he’d eaten since this whole thing started, “I wish I wasn’t lactose intolerant.”

His stomach was going to kill him later.

Still worth it for this sandwich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to once again thank my Beta, SylviaMoon
> 
> Season 7 spoiler ahead. I would just like to congratulate Shiro for giving me hope in this series and coming out as a Gay man.


	4. A Shark In The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood in water

Eating the sandwich was a mistake.

Keith hadn’t eaten enough lactose for a _real_ emergency, but now it felt like his stomach was going to rip itself out and murder him slowly. It was especially bad considering he had no way of moving from the bed, so it was pure luck that his reaction to the cheese wasn’t extreme.

Still, it’d only been two hours and he was ready to die now.

The pale boy grumbled as he turned onto his side. Three years running around the woods and fighting off ghouls and this was how he died? Disgraceful. Uncle Kolivan would never forgive him. Keith could _feel_ the man judging him from whatever place in hell he’d ended up in.

Keith squirmed, tugging at the chains as his gut gave another sharp stab. He grumbled, moving to roll onto his stomach and add some pressure onto the pained organ. In the old days, before everything went to shit, he’d grab a sprite and drink it down, letting the bubbles help settle his stomach. Now though, he didn’t have pills or sprite, just time. Unfortunately, time was a bitch.

Keith glared at the painting on the wall, violet eyes flickering over the sharks. He’d never seen a real shark before, never gotten a chance to go to an aquarium before things turned to shit. He idly wondered what they looked like now, with all those dirty tanks and dead fish. How long did the aquariums last before the last of the animals died? Could any still be alive? Swimming through long murky waters, the breeding of fish and the wild growing of plants the only thing feeding them. No, no it wasn’t likely. It was more likely they all died slow, rotting, deaths, trapped in glass cages they could never escape.

Keith had seen a few zoo animals that had escaped over the years, but there was no way the aquariums lasted.

Maybe that’s why there was never a successful attempt to capture a Great White Shark. Maybe they knew what would happen someday. Maybe they chose to let themselves die over living and waiting for a slow death.

It was a stupid thing to think about, especially in his situation, but he found that there was little else he could think about right now. The painting was right there, and he was stuck here, in pain, and it was a decent distraction from that. Better than thinking about what they were going to do to him, or Shiro, or how much he could trust a human that may or may not be under a vampire’s thrall.

So, yeah, he was going to think about aquariums and dead sharks all he wanted to. His priorities were fine.

Why did this vampire even have a painting of sharks? Why was his whole room ocean themed?

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Violet eyes flickered over to the fish tank, distracting themselves by the swirling of the saltwater creatures inside. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the ocean, it was way too dangerous to risk going near there. Sure, it was usually sunny by the beach, and lots of resources could be harvested, but Keith has heard some bad rumors about things that swam in the waters ever since the bloodbaths started. These fish, these colorful, ignorant, fish, were the closest he’d probably ever get to seeing the ocean again.

His stomach gave another sharp stab, but he ignored it in favor of watching the slow dance of the fish. The light blue of the tank’s lights illuminating the room like a gentle nightlight. It was the only thing that lit the room now, and it was the only source of comfort he really had anymore.

Keith curled his toes against the blanket, the heavy silk rubbing against his skin softly. How long had he been here now? It’d been hours since he’d seen Hunk, and no one else had come by after him. For a vampire that had taken a personal interest in his “rehabilitation” the guy sure was neglectful.

He’s had to piss for the better part of a few hours now. If someone didn’t come help him soon then he was going to ruin these nice sheets. It was going to be humiliating, but damn, it wasn’t like he could move and find a bathroom himself.

This must have been some kind of sadistic game.

If Keith had any sense he would have scraped the cheese off the sandwich and stayed healthy long enough to come up with an escape plan. But _damn_  he’d just been happy with that food. Now he was stuck with stomach pains.

He huffed, tugging at the chains again, wondering when the vampire would bother showing up. He wasn’t kidding about needing to piss, and he would rather _not_  ruin these nice clothes, or the bed for that matter. He doubted that he could take the vamp right now if the thing ended up getting ticked at him.

He groaned, another sharp pain shooting through his stomach. When the fuck was someone going to show up and let him go to the bathroom? Did they seriously expect him to go this long without a bathroom break? They did remember they chained him up, right?

Probably not, vampire and all.

Stupid vampires.

Keith curled into a ball, wrapping himself around a stray pillow and hugging it tightly, trying to pretend the pain wasn’t there. The red silk of his pajamas was soft, but made his body feel like it was sliding around too much on top of the silken sheets. It was beyond frustrating.

“Fuck my life.” Keith growled, burying his face into the pillow. He tried to trick himself into falling asleep, but the pain and need to piss was too much for him. He cracked open his eyes again, focusing back onto that stupid shark painting.

He could have painted something better than that.

Keith scolded, flipping over to face away from the painting, forcibly pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing stupid like that mattered anymore. The world needed mechanics, hunters, farmers, things that would actually be useful. There wasn’t any use holding onto silly things.

Pale wrists tugged at their chains again, trying to slip them off. He took a moment to wonder if breaking his fingers would help any. The cuffs were pretty thick, and long, more like something you’d find in a dungeon than police cuffs. If he broke his thumb then it would be a painful and time consuming experience trying to squeeze it under the cuff and off of his wrist.

Would it be worth it though? He was already in pain, and even if he escaped he wouldn’t get far with two broken thumbs. No, it was probably best to play it safe for now.

Still, things would be easier if _someone_  could show up and let him go to the damn bathroom.

“I’m going to piss myself.” Keith admitted out loud, rolling over to face the ceiling, silently hoping that if he admitted the fact out loud some pitying God would hear him and send someone to unlock him. He remained silent for a few moments after that, the only sound in the room coming from the fish tank as the motor cleaned the water inside. The pale boy huffed, slumping back against the pillows as he threw his head back and focused on anything except the tank.

He hoped Shiro was having a better time than this. Probably not, with an infection and newly missing arm, but hopefully whoever was supposedly taking care of him a least remembered that humans had to use bathrooms.

Fucking vampires.

Keith turned, staring at one of the three doors that lined the walls. He knew one was the entrance Hunk had used, another could have maybe been a closet, and the last one he liked to imagine was maybe the bathroom he _would_  be using if he wasn’t _cuffed to a damn bed_.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Keith stated out loud to no one in particular, half hoping that the vampire could somehow hear him from wherever he was. Keith squirmed again, eyeing the door, body shaking now from the effort. The doors were mocking him, the chains were barely long enough to get off the bed, much less reach one of those doors.

He squirmed.

“Seriously, if you can hear me, I _am_  going to piss myself.” Keith replied, tugging at the chains again, eyes locked on the door.

He waited a few moments, silently hoping that by some miracle someone would turn up. He huffed after a good minute, more than a little frustrated, and very seriously debated just whipping out his dick and pissing a long ‘Fuck You’ onto the floor.

Keith bit his lip, wishing Hunk had the foresight to tell the vampire that humans had needs that _couldn’t be ignored_. He’d remind the guy next time someone remembered to feed him or something. For now the only thing he could do was lay here and stew in his own frustrations.

“Are you alright darling?” A voice cut in.

Keith’s head snapped towards the voice, his body flinching back as he realized the vampire was _leaning over him_.

Or, at least, he thinks it’s the same vampire. He was the same skin tone, and he had the same glowing, blue, eyes. His face wasn’t melted though, having reconstructed itself into something sharp and handsome, but the body was the right shape and size. Overall, he was pretty sure it was the same vamp.

It’s the second time that Keith has been left defenseless and bare beneath those glowing eyes, but it’s the first time he’s gotten a good look at his captor. Keith took a moment, sizing up the vampire properly now that there was enough light and his body wasn’t pumping with the adrenaline of panic. Those blue eyes studied him as well, unblinking as they took in the sight of his limp body, dolled up all pretty and helplessly chained.

The pale blue from the fish tank highlighted the glowing blue of the vamp’s eyes, making them seem even more eerie as they shined in the dim glow. The water rippled across the vampire’s face, making the shadows across it seem darker somehow, the eyes starkly standing out and making him seem much more predatory.

Like a shark, lurking in the clean water, eyes on a colorful fish.

But Keith wasn’t a fish, not even a colorful one, and he wasn’t just going to wait here for the vampire to take a bite out of him. So Keith, with all the callousness that once infuriated his schoolmates, tugged at the chains and gave the vampire a flat look, “I have to piss.”

The vampire blinked for the first time since he arrived, seemingly startled, “What?”

Keith huffed, tugging at the chains again, “Humans need to use the bathroom. I’ve been chained here for hours. If you don’t want me to ruin these damn sheets then I suggest that you let me out and point me to the nearest bathroom.”

The vampire blinked again, face falling in some expression Keith couldn’t read. He’d never been good at reading stranger’s facial expressions. It always took Keith a while to learn what particular expressions meant on different faces. He couldn’t read this face though, so he was lost to what the vampire wanted when he responded, “That’s the first thing you say?”

“You guys are the ones that left me chained to a bed.” Keith shot back, tugging on the chains again, “It's not like I could get up and go on my own. Or do you want me to ruin the bed?”

“No, that’s not wha-“ The vampire shook his head, stopping himself from finishing that sentence. He leaned over Keith, shadows dancing across his face as he moved closer and closer. He eyed the chains, then Keith, before nodding to himself.

“Alright.” The vampire leaned back, “I’ll let you out, but if you try to run I’ll cuff you tighter and you’ll just have to wallow in your own filth until I come back next time.”

Keith snorted, “Lovely.”

“No funny business.” The vampire warns, “When I let you out you’re not going to run, or attack me, or even attempt to leave this room. If you’re good then I’ll let you wander this room without being chained down from now on, but if you try anything I’m not afraid to drag you right back into this bed and strap you down again.”

The vampire was clearly a prick. Having the audacity to kidnap him and then make these demands, and in any other situation he would have snapped. Now wasn’t the time or place though, not with Shiro in danger and a powerful vampire dangling over him. Keith huffed again, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the dangerous man leaning over him, teeth too close for comfort. So he bit his tongue and waited for his capture to make his move.

“Do you promise not to run.” The vampire leaned in, too close, far too close.

Keith couldn’t look away from the eyes, pinned by those orbs as the vampire placed a hand against his chest, running the cool hand over Keith’s too warm skin. The pale boy pressed himself back against the bed, trying to put distance between himself and the vampire.

Still, he needed to say something, because this guy clearly wasn’t letting him up on without a promise. Keith scolded a bit, refusing to back down despite his caution, “Fine.”

The vampire’s lips quirked, twitching upward into something resembling a smile, “Alright darling.”

Keith sank back against the mattress as the vampire reached up, tanned fingers fiddling with the cuffs, body basically draping the pale boy’s own. The vamp must have had the key on him or something, because the telltale sound of a click was heard and the cuffs fell away. The vampire pulled away, backing off some as his eyes trained on the previously trapped human.

Keith leaned up, rubbing his raw wrists, steadying himself as his stomach gave another painful lurch. The pale boy sucked in a breath, stepping off the bed for the first time in hours. He was hit by a wave of dizziness at first, stumbling a bit as the dehydration and sudden movement hit him. He straightened himself up, though, and stood on his own for the first time in hours.

He met the vampire’s eye, refusing to blink as he squared his shoulders and stared at the glowing blue orbs, “Bathroom?”

The vampire stared him down a few more moments before pointing at one of the two doors Keith had previously guessed lead towards a bathroom. The pale boy didn’t bother waiting, hastily making his way towards the door and darting inside without a word.

And why wasn’t he surprised the bathroom was huge? It looked like a bathroom you’d find in a castle, with a huge bathtub that could fit ten people, marble flooring, multiple sinks, a separate shower, vases of fake flowers, and even Greek style statues. Keith froze for a moment, having to double check just to make sure he hadn’t accidently entered an art room or something, but no, it was a bathroom. There was even a separate area for the toilet, complete with a door and everything.

“What in the actual fuck?” Keith breathed, staring in disbelief. The bathtub was flanked by several vases, at least two of the statues, and a raised floor circled the tub, lined with various bottles and fancy things like that.

Keith shook his head, turning towards the toilet and making his way over towards it to finish what he came here to do. He didn’t close the small door behind him, not wanting to open it and find that the vampire had snuck in again. Still, that left him warily doing his business in a walled off room while he tried to throw looks over his shoulder to make sure the vamp didn’t try to sneak in.

Finally relieved, Keith moved to make his way over towards the multiple sinks. He eyed the marble counters, approaching one of the sinks with caution as he tested the overly fancy faucets.

And of course the vampire had running water. Warm water at that. Keith hadn’t felt warm water since the day the power went out in the bunker. The raven haired boy couldn’t resist the urge to just stand there for a moment, letting the warm water run over his hands for nearly a solid minute before washing his hands with the fancy hand soap and turning off the water.

Violet eyes flickered back over the bathroom, taking in the over fancy room just one more time, just to make sure the place was real, before letting out a deep sigh and making his way back towards the bedroom. His bare feet slapping softly against the cool marble floor as he moved.

Opening the door back into the bedroom, Keith isn’t surprised to see the vampire still out there. What _does_  surprise him is that the vampire had settled himself onto the bed, loosening his clothes to leave his chest exposed, jacket hanging off his shoulders and shirt half undone. The vampire’s eyes were trained on him, the glowing orbs having settled on him the moment he’d opened the bathroom door.

“Feel better now?” The vampire asked.

Keith didn’t dignify the question with an answer. Instead he chose to remain silent, eyes flickering over the room, making sure to always keep the vampire in sight so he wouldn’t try anything. The raven haired boy shifted, if he played his cards right then he could find something to escape later.

His eyes landed on the painting again, the vampire only leaving his sight for just a moment.

That was a mistake though, because the _moment_  he was out of view Keith found himself flying. His stomach lurched painfully, and he hissed as his back hit the mattress, body bouncing a bit before he found himself pinned again.

Keith instinctively kicked out, trying to knock the body from on top of his own, but the vampire barely budged. The tanned face frowned down at him, his captor’s face twisted into something resembling disappointment, “Why won’t you answer?”

“Let go of me.” Keith hissed heatedly, his temper flaring for a moment, eyes narrowing dangerously.

The vampire flinched back, releasing Keith’s wrist, but still straddling the pale boy’s body as he lurked over him. Keith sent another quick glare, and the vampire backed away a bit, moving from on top of the human, letting him up without too much fuss.

Violet eyes still glared at the vampire as the human leaned up, crawling back from his captor as he attempted to put distance between them. Blue eyes watched him, still unblinking, lips still twisted into a frown.

Silence fell between them, long and awkward, before the vampire spoke again, “Why aren’t you happy?”

Keith blinked, startled, almost disbelieving, “ _What_?”

“What do I have to do to make you happy?” The vampire demanded, “You’re not happy, you need to be happy.”

“Why?” Keith gave a startled laugh, “Does blood taste better from happy people?”

The vampire frowned heavily, blue eyes narrowing. The shadows were still cast heavily over his body, dim glow of the tank making him look downright dangerous. The brunette crawled a bit closer, and Keith felt _something_  pull at him, trying to make him move closer. He growled, snapping those thoughts right out of his head and firmly remaining in his spot. He glared, violet eyes going downright poisonous as he realized the vampire was trying to…to…draw him into a thrall or something.

Well, if he thought that Keith was going to just roll over and give him what he wants then he had another fucking thing coming.

The vampire growled, a low and frustrated noise, “Darling, I need you to relax.”

“Don’t call me that.” Keith demanded, backing further away from his captor, “And how the hell do you expect me to be happy after you _kidnapped_  me.”

“I saved you.” The vampire insisted, growling, “You would have died out there. Or…or been taken by…by…”

The vampire shook his head, growling out a low, furious, sound, “I don’t even want to _think_  about it.”

“I was fine.” Keith snapped, temper fraying a bit thin, “Sure, I wasn’t safe, but I wasn’t caught either. I was fine. Until _you_  kidnapped me. What are you going to do to me? Put me in a zoo?”

“I would _never_.” The vampire snapped, reaching out and wrapping both hands around each of Keith’s shoulders, pulling the pale boy closer to him, “I won’t _ever_  let you anywhere _near_  one of those wrenched places.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to believe that?” Keith tried to pull away, but the vampire’s grip was too strong, his fingers bruising the skin on his shoulders. Still, he refused to back down now that he was in so deep, so he met the vampire’s eyes, the glare between them heated enough to burn. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Well _Lance_ , this isn’t the first time I’ve been gaslighted, and I’m not going to fall for it again. So you can back the fuck off and try this shit with someone more gullible than me.”

“What?” The vampire’s whole body was rumbling at this point, Keith’s body shaking from how badly the brunette was keeping it together, “Who did it? Who the _fuck_  did it?”

“That’s _none_  of your business.” Keith tried to pull away again, pulling up a foot and placing it against the vampire’s chest as he tried to kick away the brunette, “So get _off_.”

The vampire let go, backing away an inch or two and pinching his eyes shut as he reached to clench his nose closed. He almost seemed to be in pain, and Keith was filled with an empty sense of longing, wanting to reach out and comfort the pained man. He shook it off though, reminding himself that this guy wanted to _eat_  him, and that he’d taken Shiro to some unknown location, where Keith couldn’t be sure the man was safe. So, no, he didn’t get pity.

“Mi alma.” The vampire spoke, low and desperate, “Please, please, you don’t understand. I _need_  you to calm down. I need to make you _happy_.”

Keith shifted, eyes briefly catching sight of that stupid shark painting, the predators seeming even more looming and threatening at this angle, the shadows casting a dark atmosphere over them. The vampires eyes opened then, the two orbs glaring at him, becoming like the sharks that lurked behind him.

“You want to make me _happy?”_ Keith spat, “Alright, take me to my brother.”

The vampire gave a pained sound, “I can’t _do_  that. He’s being treated for blood poisoning, and you can’t leave this room yet.”

“Then tough shit.” Keith snapped, “Because seeing Shiro again is the _only_  thing that will make me happy right now.”

“There has to be something else.” The vampire insisted, fingers twitching horrifically, “I’ll bring you pictures of him. I’ll bring you hair. I’ll prove he’s fine. I just need you to be happy.”

Keith scoffed, trying to slide off the bed, wondering how far he could make it before the vampire caught up to him. The creature looked shaken, but his eyes were also firmly trained on the pale human. The raven haired boy moved, glad the vampire didn’t attempt to grab him as he backed off the bed, “That’s something at least.”

“Good.” The vampire nodded, eyes trailing him as Keith moved through the room. He felt like any moment the vampire would pounce again, so he cautiously moved to stand at the most inconvenient angle he could find. The brunette’s gaze never once faltered though, “What else can I do?”

“I don’t suppose letting me go is an option.” Keith tried.

“No.” The vampire stated fiercely, shaking his head, “Not anymore. They’ll know. They may already know. You were in enough danger before, but now you’ll have every high ranking Galra out there gunning for you. They’ll smell it on you.”

Keith frowned heavily, “What? The _Galra_? Why would they personally hunt me?”

The vampire shifted, “You were already in danger out there. I don’t even know how you survived, but now they know that a duo of humans survived three years on their own in Galra territory? They’ll want you.”

It smelled an awful lot like bullshit to Keith, but at the same time it made sense. At the very least _this_  vampire knew about him, and if he managed to escape he and every other vamp in the area would hunt him down, especially since this particular vampire was weirdly fixated on him. Even if he managed to kill the brunette, Shiro was wounded and there was a colony of likely brainwashed people that would try and take revenge.

In other words; he was screwed.

Keith scowled, mood souring at the realization. From his spot on the bed the vampire made a very displeased sound, quickly forcing himself up. The brunette’s eyes roamed the room, looking for something to distract himself with, but the vampire couldn’t seem to find anything that would calm him and turned back to face the human, “Can’t you think of _anything_  I can do to make you happy in here? Something that you wouldn’t have to leave this room for?”

How the hell this guy expected Keith to be anywhere close to happy with this situation. Kidnapped, alone without his only family, stuck in this room, and trapped under the whims of a vampire. There was no way to make him happy in this situation.

Still, the vampire leaned forward, “Please, I took you out of the cuffs. What else can I do? What will keep you happy until you can leave this room again?”

Keith frowned, eyes landing on the painting again, the sharks mocking him.

He was blood in the water, and all the sharks were here for him.

“I want paint.” Keith snapped, eyes peeling away from the portrait. “I want paint, and a canvas. It’s the only thing that will make me happy.”

The vampire was silent for a long moment, eyes locked onto Keith’s form, body frozen like a detailed picture. He finally tilted his head after a few moments, giving a slow blink as he registered Keith’s words, “Paint?”

The raven haired boy hissed, looking away as he scolded himself for his stupid, _stupid_ , outburst. It was a show of weakness, one he didn’t plan to repeat again, “No.”

The vampire wouldn’t let it go however, “What kind of paint? Oil? Watercolor? I don’t know much about it, but I’ll find anything you need. Nothing is too much.”

Keith crossed his arms, unwilling to speak again.

“I’ll get you a canvas too. There has to be an abandoned hobby store somewhere out there.” The brunette stood, taking purposeful steps closer to him, “I’ll get you anything else you need. Brushes, sponges, clay, one of those little stands people paint on.”

An easel. Keith used to have a makeshift one Shiro had built from abandoned wood. It was a piece of shit, but it was his. It had probably fallen apart by now. Along with all of his other treasures. He’d only just gotten a good tablet too, one he’d never gotten to use.

“Were you an artist?” The vampire asked, steadily approaching him, deliberately slow in his steps. The reflection of water still danced across him even now, and it didn’t matter how safe he tried to make himself look, the shadows and dim blue light made him look as dangerous as Keith knew he really was.

Violet eyes refused to stop glaring, and Keith refused to let his guard down even now. The vampire abstained from backing down though, and reached out to try and touch the pale skin of Keith’s cheek. The human boy flinched, tensing up as the tanned fingers made contact. The vampire stepped in front of him, those fingers trailing down his cheek along a vein of his neck.

“Don’t touch me!” He jerked back, hissing again as he brought his hands up and forcibly pushed the vampire away. The tanned creature didn’t move, wasn’t even nudged a bit, only stood there and watched as Keith backed away defensively. His heart hammered in his chest, a thrill of fear coursing through him. He knew, he _knew_  what the vampire wanted.

His eyes flickered over towards the door he remembered Hunk using.

“Don’t try to run.” The vampire warned, probably catching on to what Keith was thinking, “I won’t touch you again until you let me, but don’t you dare try to leave this room. You’re not ready.”

“Not ready?” Keith sneered, “Not ready for what?”

“There are other people in the community. We’re not sure if you’re well enough to interact with the public yet.” The vampire tried to sell, but Keith wasn’t buying that bullshit for a second.

“Right.” Keith made sure that every bit of skepticism he felt dripped from his voice, “That’s why I’m locked in this room. There are no other rooms I could be locked in. Or any methods to make sure people are guarded from me. I have to be confined to _this_  room.”

The vampire actually paused at that one, seeming to think over his answer a bit before he opened his mouth again, “Exactly.”

...Or Keith was clearly giving him too much credit, “Really?”

“No other rooms to hold you in, people are too busy to constantly guard you, and we don’t have the resources to keep you in line any other way.” The vampire answered confidently, almost smug, and if there was one thing Keith hated it was _smugness_. Especially when the lying asshole clearly had enough resources for running water and electricity.

“The fish tank is nice.” Keith stated idly, “Do you use it so that people have access to rare cuisine?”

The vampire’s smug smirk dropped, his eyes snapping over towards his unnecessarily giant fish tank before looking back at Keith with...a pout, “No...those are pets.”

Keith wasn’t falling for the innocent act at all, instead he kept his arms firmly crossed, “Why won’t you _r_ _eally_  let me out?”

“I told you, you’re not ready.” The vampire made a frustrated noise, “It's not _safe_  for you to leave yet.”

Keith snorted again. At this point they were going to start talking in circles. The vampire was determined not to answer him; wasn’t he? Well, he wasn’t going to give an inch for this guy either. Whatever the vamp was planning for him, he wasn’t going to help along.

He had to bide his time, wait for the perfect moment to escape. There had to be something here that he could use, he just needed the vampire to leave first.

“Listen.” The vampire sighed after a few moments of tense silence had passed, shoulders visibly slumping, “I know you’re upset. I _know_  it, and I know you don’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me either if I was in your shoes. But, cariño, I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t have some grand plan to trick you into letting your guard down, I’m not going to force you into a zoo, and I’m _certainly_  not going to hurt you.”

The vampire took another step forward, moving within Keith’s personal bubble, but didn’t reach out to touch him. The blue eyes were all he could see now, eerie and unblinking as always, “I just want to make you happy.”

A red-hot anger boiled beneath Keith’s skin, his jaw clenching together painful as he tried to hold back an furious scream that would likely get him killed. He knew it, this vampire was playing with him. Those words proved it. Anyone who ever said they just wanted to make you happy had an ulterior motive, it was a rule he’d learned well.

“Liar.” Keith hissed, backing away, “You already have the upper hand here. Quit with the games and just get on with it.”

The vampire closed his eyes, letting out a long and unnecessary breath, shoulders slumping further. He reopened his eyes, staring for a bit before speaking again, “Please...just...tell me your name.”

“No.”

His answer was sharp, cutting through the smothered sounds of the fish tank. He stood firmly, shoulders squared, knowing that this was it. This was the moment when they always showed their true colors. He tensed, preparing himself for whatever the vampire would do next, whether it was a fist to the face or teeth to the neck. It was all a matter of waiting now.

The blow never came though.

The vampire backed away now, shoulders still slumped. He turned his back to Keith, walking away, right towards the door Hunk had used before. He paused, hand on the knob, before turning to face the lone human in the room, “That’s alright. I knew this would take time. I’ll get you the paint, and anything else you ask for. All you have to do is tell someone you want something and I’ll do everything in my power to get it. You’re free to walk around this room, but the door is locked so don’t bother trying to get out. I’ll know if you do, and you’ll go right back into the cuffs. I’ll be down the hall, so just call if you need me.”

The vampire paused a moment, considering his words carefully before speaking again, “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll learn to love it here eventually. You’re safe here, and I won’t give up. I promise I’ll make you so happy that you’ll forget why you ever weren’t in the first place.”

And with that the vampire turned away, walking out the room and closing the door behind him with an audible click, leaving Keith alone with nothing but a painful twisting in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after an unexpected week long break from s7. Wow, the fandom was a mess for those first few days. I'm just glad that things have calmed down now and most of us are moving on. I've always thought fanon was better than canon anyway, and I only hope people decide to follow the Harry Potter fandoms footsteps divorce canon instead of harassing people.
> 
> Listen, guys, you're allowed to be upset with what happened and the way things turned out, especially with the Adam situation, but no death threats please. Reasonable criticism will do a lot more than harassment. I'm not saying I think any of you guys did it, because I know that the notion going around that all Klance shippers are toxic is, itself a toxic and hypocritical idea. I just want you all to spread the message that we need to stay calm and wait until we're not angry before we respond. Try and stop some of the more toxic people in this fandom if we can, otherwise any serious complaints we have will just be chalked up to us being mad about ships. If you want similar situations avoided in the future, or in future adaptations of the show, then reasonable and realistic and objective criticism is far more valuble than short term blow ups.
> 
> You guys aren't bad for being Klance shippers, and you're not bad for not liking the outcome of the show. The Adam situation was, in my opinion, poorly handled. And I, personally, wish Allurance was better written if its becoming canon, and those are complaints that are both personal tastes and something I could reasonably complain about. But, they're also canon I choose to ignore in my fics, or that I can headcanon away. 
> 
> I'm not trying to start a debate in the comments, I much rather have a comment about the actual chapter, I just wanted to leave this here for all of you so you know that I'm on your side. They can't take Klance away from you. And that I understand your disappointment. Its alright, its okay, and you're not wrong for feeling the way you feel.
> 
> Have a good week, and I hope to see you here again soon. ♡♡♡♡


	5. A Pearl Paintbrush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone honestly expect Keith to just listen to Lance?

After the vampire had left Keith immediately used his newfound freedom to try and find a way to escape. He tried looking for windows, vents, anything he could use to get outside. Unfortunately the entire room was frustratingly closed off, with no windows to speak of and the vents being realistically small and not in any way big enough for him to crawl through. The vents were also working, something that made the pale boy raise an eyebrow for a solid minute before deciding it wasn’t important and going back to work.

He decides to go through every nook and cranny to find what he needs, but the bedroom doesn’t yield any fruitful results. The closet is a walk in, but has nothing except clothes that were probably fashionable before the world fell apart, with shirts and pants neatly lining the inside and fancy shoes carefully organized beneath. There were dressers that were full of clothes as well, with the only exception being a drawer that was filled with things that had Keith slamming it shut nearly immediately, red faced and embarrassed as he backed away and tried to forget what he had discovered about the vamp.

There wasn’t much else in the room to explore, unless the table pushed up between that damn painting and the fishtank had a secret door in it, which he doubted. He checked, just in case, but the only thing on the table was a crystal whiskey set, with actual whiskey in the very fancy bottle. While it was something he couldn’t help but marvel at for a moment, wondering if vampires could even _get_  drunk, he decided to leave it. He didn’t need alcohol of all things clouding his thoughts when vampires were around.

How such a huge and fancy room could be so frustratingly empty was beyond Keith, there wasn’t even a damn bookshelf for entertainment, just a bunch of useless shit that wouldn’t help him at all.

He growled, stomping towards the bathroom and deciding to look _there_.

The bathroom was no better than the bedroom. While the bathroom the fancier of the two rooms, it was also slightly more useful. Rummaging through the cabinets and drawers beneath the sink yielded a bunch of beauty products, a baffling sight considering that he was pretty sure vampires wouldn’t need them, but some of them had sharp bits, like nail clippers and a pair of fancy scissors. The scissors would make a half decent weapon if he hid them well. They wouldn’t do much against a vampire though. Still, any tools were decent tools, and he could probably find another use for them later.

Thankfully his pajamas had pockets; he slipped the tools inside and patted them, making sure they were safe before padding away from the cabinets.

So, what now?

Violet eyes flickered over the enormous bathroom. He could probably push those huge statues over or something if he was desperate enough. He couldn’t move them on his own though. So it looked like he’d exhausted every option as far as gathering tools yet.

Then again, there was a hair blow dryer hanging by the sink. Those had cords. He could use a cord. Keith shuffled over, reaching out to grab it off its weird hook. He inspected it for a moment, staring at the thick cord. Was it safe to cut these off?

It was definitely something he could keep in mind for later.

Right, so he had scissors, nail clippers, and a cord. No windows, no large vents, no exits except the door Hunk and Lance used. Overall, his options didn’t look good at all.

Keith sighed, padding out of the bathroom and leaving the door open behind him. His eyes flickered over towards the door, studying it. It wasn’t a surprize that it was a large double door. Oak maybe? It looked heavy. He doesn’t know if he could kick it open. Though he suspects Lance might be able to.

He strolls up to it, eye on the handles. It’s as elaborate as everything else in the room, with fancy carvings and all. The handles have locks on them, the little knobs setting horizontally in the middle. He hums, eyeing the lock. So was the door only locked from the inside? That didn’t make much sense if Lance wanted to lock him in here. Was it barred on the outside?

A pale hand reached out and grabbed the lock. He twisted his wrist, the knob opening easily, not even a hint of resistance. He frowned, pushing lightly to see if it would open, it did suspiciously easy. His brows knitted together. This didn’t make sense.

Keith leaned forward, sticking his head out the door to peer down the highway.

Two women flanked the door, each standing stone still with their arms crossed, faces blank as they stared at the wall. They both turned to look at him when he poked his head out, staring dead straight and unblinking, so silent that it was almost creepy.

“Let me guess…” Keith drawled, feeling the annoyance set in, “Vampires?”

Neither woman said a thing, they just continued to stare at him, their golden eyes unblinking. They’ve been vampires for a while then, but they weren’t old enough to learn how to regain their original human color. Maybe vampires Lance made a couple of decades ago? Or maybe they were here for some of the human blood that was apparently abundant here.

“And neither of you are going to let me leave the room, are you?” Keith asked flatly, not even expecting an answer after the previous silence.

Surprise, surprise, they didn’t answer. The creepy girls just continued to stare at him blankly with those golden eyes. Damn, grow a personality would you? Didn’t whoever raise them teach them not to stare? Rude.

“So that’s Lance’s plan, huh?” Keith raised a brow at them, “You two stop me if I try to get out.”

No answer again, just more staring. Did Lance also order them not to answer questions or something? This was a little much. Were they going for some strong and silent aesthetic here? Were they mute? If they were it would be nice if they gave him some sign that they couldn’t speak or something. Maybe some sign language? Or any sort of sign, even a shrug?

He decided that if they weren’t going to answer that he was just going to test his theory. He opened the door wide enough for him to slip through and poked his foot out. Both girls immediately moved into action, turning to stand in front of him like a solid wall, holding their hands out in warning, ready to throw him right back into the room if he took another step.

“Thought so.” Keith snorted, pulling back inside the room, closing the door without another word. He turned back to face the room, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. He didn’t have the strength to fight off two vampires of that level without tools.

The wood from the bed could probably make a good stake if he wanted, but all he had were scissors and nail clippers to work with. Even if he worked all night, or day, or whatever time it was he wouldn’t be able to make a stake long enough for even one of them before someone came to check on him. Besides, it wouldn’t help while they were awake. He had to pin them either to the ground or in their coffins if he wanted to keep them from getting up.

If they even had coffins.

Keith eyed the bed critically. The room was windowless and certainly dark enough for Lance to rest in without any fear of sunlight, which seemed to be the main reason that vampires used them. Lance probably had the room specially designed to not let any sunlight in if he was as wealthy and powerful as he seemed.

That and he was at least old enough to gain his original eye color, which meant he was old and powerful. Keith would need his silver knife back if he wanted to do something about Lance. He had never killed a vampire with their original eye color before, the more common vampires being the red-eyed newborns, sometimes accompanied by the golden-eyed middlings, but he never actually ran into a vampire older than a hundred years. He’d only seen them on the TV about an hour before the attacks hit his hometown, when one of Zarkon’s followers announced their plans to “take back the world in the name of vengeance”. Lance was the first he’d run into that was one of that power, and the first he would have killed if only his aim had been true the night Lance found them.

Keith sighed, deflating. It looked like there was nothing he could do for now. Looks like it was he and his old enemy patience now. That wouldn’t be so bad if there was anything to do but stare at fish in this room.

The pale boy moved towards the bed, flopping down on the mattress and rolling back towards the middle. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the soft light, willing his riising headache to go away. Now he was left alone with nothing but his thoughts, a most dangerous position for someone like him.

He could probably take both of the golden eyed vampires if worse came to worst. He and Shiro had taken out golden eyes before, a whole group of them gathering whatever remaining humans were out there once. And he knows for a fact that his lost uncle, Kolivan, once took out an original eyed vampire before they lost contact with his group. Still, without that weapon there was no point. The scissors weren’t exactly silver, the best they could do was surprise the golden eyes. Fuck, they needed names.

What did Lance even want anyway? Was he trying to indoctrinate him into his cult? It felt like this was a cult. Happy prisoners were better than unwilling ones. Though he was getting weird vibes from the guy, something less cultish and more...possessive.

He was probably reading it wrong. He knew a lot about killing vampires and telling which ones were more powerful than others, but when it came to general attitude and lifestyles and culture he was ignorant at best. There wasn’t exactly a lot of opportunity to learn about the general behaviours when they were usually trying to kill you. Back when this whole thing began Keith had hoped that maybe there were some nicer vampires out there that would be willing to talk or help them learn how to survive, but after three years of constant attacks and many, many, dead people he learned better.

He doesn’t even know why Zarkon was doing all of this, or what “vengeance” he was talking about. It was probably a bullshit excuse for what he’d done. Afterall, that’s how a lot of dictators started. Hitler had said similar shit once.

 Whatever, it didn’t matter, nothing justified the sick shit he’d put them all through.

Keith groaned, sitting up and moving his arm, the restlessness vibrating through him as he got up just so he could _move._ His thoughts could occupy him a long time, but he’d spent all day or night or whatever thinking.

Shit, this room needed a damn clock, what time even was it? Obviously night, if the two vampires outside his room were any indication, but that left a long gap in time. Was it early? Was it midnight? Was it three in the morning?

The noriette was pacing now, trying to burn off the restless energy he’d built up, walking along the length of the wall sized fish tank, turning back once he reached one wall so that he could make the trip back to the other. That awful shark painting in sight whenever he turned to face the wall it hung on. He brushed both hands through his hair, fighting off the restlessness with motion.

He missed Shiro. If Shiro were here he’d say something that would make the situation seem less terrible. Everything was less terrible when Shiro was around. Not good maybe, but at least less terrible. Unfortunately it looked like Lance wasn’t in the mood to let him see his brother anytime soon.

The pale boy growled, marching back to the bed and flopping down again. He buried his face into one of the fluffy pillows, letting out a muffled scream of pure frustration. It helped, but now he just deflated against the sheets with a sore throat and exhaustion.

This was going to be a long night...probably...it could be six am for all he knows.

* * *

Keith woke up to a knock on his door and a familiar voice sounding out, “Breakfast time!”

Violet eyes blinked open, bits of silk sheets twisted beneath his fingers, the bundled mess of blue sliding beneath him as he pushed himself up. He blinked the blurriness from his eyes, taking in the sight of the last human he’d seen, Hunk, standing there with a tray.

“Hey buddy!” Hunk grinned, “You’ve been knocked out for a bit there.”

“Wha-” Keith pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I heard you just sort of passed out early this morning.” Hunk stated, sitting on the edge of the bed, laying the tray down next to him, “From what Lance said the guards heard you marching around in here and then you went quiet. Apparently when they checked you were passed out.”

The news bothered him. It bothered him a lot. He didn’t like the idea that he’d passed out with two vampires at the door, that they’d been _in the room_  with him while he was unconscious at some point. He reached for his neck, feeling for any sign of bite marks.

Hunk frowned a bit, scratching his cheek once he realized what the pale boy was doing, “No one bit you while you were out of it.”

Keith frowned anyway, his fingers running over smooth skin, double checking. It felt like his neck was clean at least, “What happened?”

Hunk shifted nervously, biting his lip, “Umm...well...ugh...you probably passed out from stress or something. The guards said you were pacing around a lot and your heart rate was a bit faster than normal…”

“Or something.” Keith deadpanned, giving Hunk a flat look, “What’s really going  on Hunk? I know you’re not keeping me here for the safety of the civilians, especially not with vampire guards, so what’s the truth.”

Hunk raised his hands in surrender, “Hey man, it’s not my fault Lance thinks the best way to take care of you is to keep you here. It’s not like we have a mental health center anymore.”

Dodging the question then? Fine, then Keith was going to be just as difficult, “Sure, alright, fine. Maybe I won’t pass out from “stress” if you let me out to see my brother.”

Hunk looked distinctly uncomfortable now, “That’s not my call buddy.”

Keith scoffed, having expected this answer. Hunk was determined to be unhelpful, or at least was unwilling to be helpful so long as Lance didn’t want him to be. At least he brought food, which was something. Keith didn’t know how long he was out, or what fucking time it was, but he’d take what he could get right now. Bitterly and reluctantly, without any real satisfaction, but he’d take it.

“How long was I out?” The pale boy asks, eyeing the other suspiciously, “You know what? What time even is it?”

Hunk flinched back a bit, looking around the room and frowning softly, probably only just realizing how closed off the room was. The lack of even a clock to give him some idea about how long he was here was particularly frustrating, and Hunk seemed to realize this if the grimace he gave was any indication.

“I’ll...um...see about getting you a clock.” Hunk rubbed the back of his head, chuckling uncomfortably as he turned to look at Keith, “You passed out sometime around midnight last night. It’s almost sundown now.”

Keith raised a brow, surprised, “That long?”

“Yeah.” Hunk nodded, chewing his lip, “Lance was really worried. We had a doctor come in and look at you.”

Keith shifted a bit, looking away from Hunk, frowning heavily. He didn’t like the idea that _Lance_  had been in the room with him while he was unconscious. And a stranger too? This situation was looking worse and worse every moment. He had to get out of here.

Violet eyes caught sight of something tucked into the corner of the room. Keith paused, letting his gaze turn fully towards the new object in the room.

An easel.

Just like Lance had promised there was a brand new easel sitting delicately in the corner, already propped up and ready for use, a brand new canvas resting on it. There were more canvases stacked neatly along the wall, of various different sizes. A few sketchbooks were stacked on the table too, resting next to the whiskey set. Lined up along the rest of the table were various different types of sketch pencils, markers, pens, even quills and an airbrush set. There were all sorts of paints too, it seemed, oil and acrylic alike, every kind of brush he could imagine laid out across the wooden surface.

“What the fuck?” Keith breathed, standing up and walking towards the table, not quite able to believe the sheer amount of art supplies laid out in front of him. There were hundreds of dollars worth of supplies here, which was really something considering he hadn’t seen a single paintbrush since he’d run out of his room over three years ago. The most artistic he’d gotten since were the rare moments of peace between running and gathering supplies, when he was hiding in an abandoned house, hunkered down and drawing in the dust.

And now he was here holding a fancy quill set that his fifteen year old self would have pinned after. He wasn’t sure how he’d felt about this, knowing just how much had been moved about in the room while he’d been unconscious and helpless.

“Oh, do you like them?” Hunk asked from behind him, standing up and walking over to stand next to him, “We sent a couple of people out to find a hobby store. No one else around here is that big of an artist, so a few got really excited about it. I hope you’re good man, because otherwise there’s going to be some disappointed people.”

“Why’d you bother?” Keith asked, gently picking up a paintbrush, the soft pearl-like handle a comforting weight in his hand.

Hunk shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but Keith didn’t buy it. There was something about Hunk that seemed a little too nervous, a little too cautious as he spoke, “Lance just said you wanted some paint, so we went out to get some.”

 So he did.

Keith holds the brush, staring at the delicate thing, wondering if accepting it would be selling his soul. He slipped when he told the vampire he’d wanted to paint again, and now all these beautiful supplies were just waiting here, a gift just for him, fresh for the taking. But he didn’t want to play into Lance’s game, he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him using the gift.

But there was also nothing else to do.

His fingers tightened around the slim brush, “How thoughtful.”

Hunk beamed, taking the words as progress rather than the dismissal they were meant to be. The smile the tanned boy gave him was blinding, probably the brightest thing in the room. He placed his hand over his heart, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god. I was hoping you would like them.”

Keith decided not to correct Hunk’s line of thinking, if for pity’s sake alone. The guy was clearly stressed by the whole situation, and even if he didn’t really deserve any pity the pale boy still couldn’t help but feel sympathy. It was hard surviving in this new world, and not everyone was made for it. This guy looked tough, but he clearly didn’t have the personality for a world like the one they lived in now. Hunk was just doing what he needed to for survival, and there was nothing wrong with that. Sure, it wasn’t a way Keith could approve of, and if this were a few years ago he would have been disgusted, but right now he’s just...tired.

Hunk moved and picked up one of the paints, a yellow acrylic, and held it next to his smile, “So are you any good?”

Keith shrugged, “It’s been a few years.”

The other boy deflated a bit, his shoulders slumping just the slightest bit, but he brightened back up again after a moment, “I’m sure after some practice you’ll be right back on your game!”

Violet eyes flickered over the table of supplies.

“Man, I can’t wait to see what you make.” Hunk rambled on happily, placing down the acrylic and moving to pick up a brush, playing with it as he continued, “I wasn’t kidding when I said there aren’t any artists here. Most of the others are people that either worked for Lance’s club or were in the area when the attacks started. We’ve got a few other people from outside, mostly doctors and others with skills that helped them stay alive, but you’d be surprised how little artists were left. Not saying there aren’t _any_  artsy people. We’ve got a whole band, and dancers, but you know how it is...”

This guy sure was talking a lot. Certainly a lot more than he was the last time he was here. It was funny, Hunk was giving him so much seemingly innocent details, but it was details that could prove fatal if someone started making plans to take the place down. The fact he was sharing it said one of two things, either he was an idiot, or he was confident that Keith would never make plans against the little colony they had going on.

Or, Keith thinks a little more bitterly, Hunk is confident that Lance and his guards could stop him. And wasn’t that true? He was locked in here and weaponless, with his brother held in unknown territory. Reluctant as Keith was to admit it Lance had a clear advantage here.

“You’d think more artists would work for clubs to pay for college.” Keith says instead, his fingers brushing lightly against the supplies.

“You’d think so, but they probably all became baristas or something.” Hunk shrugged, grinning sheepishly, “We’ve mostly got nursing students as far as people working through college when the attack started is concerned. Though there are a few exceptions, like an english major or a guy that was studying agriculture. We got really lucky with him.”

The noriette humed, “You almost sound like a functioning community.”

“Yeah, we’re getting there.” Hunk beamed proudly, “One of the vampires here was a night guard for an electrical company and got a few electricians out. That’s how we got the lights on, well, that and a _lot_  of scavenged solar panels and wind turbines. There’s also a few generators running around. Oh, and one of the girls who managed to get into the club before the attack was a baker. We’ve got those nursing students learning from the doctors, and a working farm. We’re doing pretty good.”

Except for the fact that there were ghouls and rabid newborn vampires running around wildly all around them, and hostile non-rapid vampires that were responsible for the whole situation in the first place. There were whole zoos of people meant to be drained by those very vampires. And Keith still wasn’t entirely sure that this whole colony wasn’t a cult, or some gaslighted form of zoo itself. He didn’t say any of this though, because if he was being honest he hadn’t seen a smile on another human being for a long time. Sometime over the last few years Shiro had become too tired for one, and Keith is sure he had too.

Hunk at some point had drifted off from his rambling, his eyes going soft as he placed down the paints. He fiddled with his hands for a moment, a nervous gesture, before speaking again, “Look buddy, I know you’re...less than happy about the way you got here, but I think this place could be good for you. You’ve been out there for...for a long time, and I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through. I just, y’know, want you to know that we’re really not here to hurt you.”

Keith sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before cracking them back opent to fix the other boy with a long wary look, “I wish I could believe that, but I don’t.”

“I thought not.” Hunk exhaled, deflating more under Keith’s words, “And I’m guessing you probably don’t want to tell me your name?”

“No.” Keith shook his head, stepping away from the other.

Brown eyes flickered over towards the bed, landing on the tray he’d left for the pale boy, “I brought you some vegetable soup. I thought you could use it after passing out like that.”

Something he still hadn’t gotten an answer for, “Thanks.”

A light dimmed in those brown eyes, and Keith watched the disappointment wash over them. He knew that Hunk wanted more, wanted to talk and have him open up, but he just didn’t trust that easily. He hadn’t even before the world had fallen apart, much less now when he was was locked away and alone, with no one but this spy here to keep him company.

He flickers his eyes over that shark painting he hates so much, the weight of it weighing on him. The violet orbs flicker back over towards the canvases lining the wall, wondering if he could paint something better, something that wasn’t that hungry and leering shark. He shakes it off quickly, knowing that those thoughts were dangerous.

Human adaptability truly was their greatest asset, wasn’t it? It also seemed to backfire on them very badly. Keith knew enough about it to realize that if he let himself get too comfortable it was only a matter of them before things started to become ritual, habitable, and from there it was only a matter of time before the Stockholm Syndrome set in. He was even already showing the signs, showing sympathy for an accomplice in his imprisonment.

Shiro had always said that, despite his rough edges, he had a heart that was too soft for the world. That somewhere underneath all the hurt and the scratched knuckles he was warm and sweet like melted chocolate. That’s why he’s the way he is, Adam used to say, because the world would eat him alive if he didn’t lash out to defend himself. His heart was to big for his body and when it melted it poured out into everything he did, so he covered it up and turned hurt into a temper and love into fierce loyalty and combined them to make a protectiveness that tasted sweet on the tongue and left a bitter aftertaste.

And here he was now, melting under a warm smile, and he’s trying to close himself off and build a wall between him and the light. It’s how he works best, building his defences brick by brick with logic and facts, with the mortar being the toxic memories that reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. He didn’t want to melt and become a part of this, not with a spy like Hunk, or a vampire like Lance.

It would be easier if he wasn’t alone. If Shiro or Adam were here it’d be easier to hold onto everything.

No.

No, he could hold on. He had to. For Shiro. Shiro who was somewhere in this colony, probably locked inside a room as well, with his arm missing and a scar on his face. He needed to stay strong if he wanted to get Shiro out.

Filled with renewed determination Keith marched over towards the bed, shutting down any more attempts at conversation as he crawled onto the mattress sat himself cross legged in the center. He didn’t touch the food, or try to speak, he just stared at the fish tank across his bed.

“Umm...buddy?” Hunk’s voice was nervous now, “Are you okay?”

Keith shut his eyes, willing the man to just leave him alone. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to deal with the nonsense, if Hunk wasn’t going to take him to Shiro then he didn’t want to hear it, “I want my brother.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, “He’s doing fine. The doctors stabilized him and are doing good work keeping his...wounds...from getting infected. He hasn’t woken up yet, but the fever is down.”

“I want to see him.” Keith opened his eyes, making sure to stare Hunk down.

Hunk flinched, “Sorry…but you really, really, can’t leave the room yet.”

“Then we have nothing to talk about.” Keith closed his eyes again, unwilling to negotiate further. He’d wait as long as he had to if it meant that he’d see Shiro again. Unfortunately, Hunk didn’t seem willing to give any more than Keith was, or at least couldn’t give, because he didn’t say anything else. He just sighed and started walking, his footsteps sounding towards the door.

Keith heard the door open, and Hunk finally spoke, “I do think we can help you if you let us.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Keith bit out, probably harsher than it needed to be, but he just couldn’t believe anyone who would lock him away from his brother could do anything. “How can you do anything to help when you don’t even know my name?”

And that was a question Hunk couldn’t seem to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Lance and Hunk debate cryptically in front of the oven*  
> Keith: Can I see my brother please? Can I please see my brother!
> 
> No, but for real, ya'll need to start talking. Keith doesn't trust like that. Get your woo on Lance.


	6. A Small Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance just wants a break, is that so much to ask?

The colony had trouble picking itself up when things first got started. After Zarkon’s hissy fit things had gone to shit pretty damn fast, no arguing that, but building a new society was a lot harder than tearing an old one down.

Luckily Lance had been around for a while, it couldn’t be too hard to go back to the good old days.

Except he forgot how much the good old days sucked. Even with the aid of solar panels and engineers. Everything had to be made by hand now, which sucked, and getting everything they needed for new clothes was hard. He missed silk suits, which were a lot harder to come by now that he had to get them handmade because fuck Zarkon and all his followers.

And to think, Lance had felt bad for the guy at first. What happened to him should have never happened to any half decent vampire, or even dickish ones, but that didn’t even begin to make up for the shit Zarkon pulled. Nothing could justify this shit.

Now it was left up to people like him and Allura to pick up the pieces.

He stood in the center of Greenhouse three, where they grew their potatoes and such. The fluorescent lights were convenient for observing the growth, but Lance dreaded what would happen once they had to start figuring out how to replace the bulbs. They had a few people trying to learn glass blowing, but it was a trial and error process at this point. Luckily they had enough engineers for now to at least figure out what _should_ have been the hard part of the task.

It was funny what skills were becoming more and more necessary. Once upon a time the world would have needed more engineers. Now they had plenty, but were lacking sewers and artistic types. It was almost funny how that ended up working out.

He wondered, idly, if his bride knew anything about glass blowing.

His throat burned.

The tanned vampire’s footsteps echoed through the greenhouse. Around him a few workers that had some gardening knowledge were busy at work. Everyone knew about gardening these days though, but these were the specialists of a sorts. Or at least they had some skill with it, either through previous work or the ability to follow instructions from the organic gardening books Lance had raided from abandoned book stores. He’s done a lot of raiding in bookstores, and hardware stores too.

He misses not having to be responsible for keeping everyone alive. Running a business had been a lot easier, and more fun, when the risk of failure didn’t mean the collapse of an entire colony. And rebuilding civilization sucked, it really sucked, and has he mentioned how much he hated Zarkon yet?

Whatever, Lance was doing fine so far. Or at least nothing had gone wrong. He was strong enough and connected enough to keep his colony afloat, and a lot of vampires were coming to his aid as well, either desperate for immediate blood or thought that his long game would work out and get the population back up someday.

Still, going from over seven billion people to _maybe_ a couple of million‒if Lance wasn’t just thinking wishfully‒was a major blow. And he _is_ an incurable optimist, so there’s a very real chance that there could be less than a million humans left. It’s almost terrifying how real the possibility is, and it leaves an even bigger pressure in his head to _not fail._

His burning throat reminds him of the price of failure.

He won’t fail, he can’t fail. It’s not an option, because Zarkon’s followers are so stupid it hurts to even think about and he doesn’t even want to think about the zoos. He can’t imagine the people in the zoos are getting the nutrients and care they needed to live long lives, and if Allura’s guess is right then it’s only a matter of time before their population starts dwindling too.

He hopes it doesn’t come to that. He hope they can push back against Zarkon and his followers before this situation gets any worse than it has. They have enough allies to go to war by now, he thinks, but they don’t want to risk it just yet. Allura wants to play this safe, wants to _make sure_ that they have no room for failure. And it helps that Zarkon alienated so many other creatures and potential allies.

If everything went as planned, then Lotor would have the werewolves on their side by next week.

Lance really wasn’t overly involved in negotiations though. Charismatic as he likes to think he is, people just didn’t have much fondness for vampires these days, so his charms might come off as more annoying than...well...charming.

The tanned vampire stops, blue eyes shifting to look over a red pepper, sniffing at the sharp smell. His throat burns, it has for a while now, and it’s not the pepper. Long fingers reach out, brushing against the spice. It’s ready to be picked, and the gardeners will probably spot it once they reach this section.

He misses blood banks. 

 _You could go to your room_ , his mind supplies, the sinful temptation playing across his thoughts, _where he’s waiting for you. Just one little bite, just a sip._

No.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the tempting thoughts. No, his future bride wasn’t ready, not at all. He wasn’t even ready to leave the _room_ , much less for a bite. Not to mention that the boy had been...less than enthusiastic with his attentions so far. This would have to be handled delicately. Very delicately.

He didn’t even know the raven haired boy’s name. He couldn’t drink from him when he didn’t even know the boy’s _name_. This wasn’t some quick snack, this was going to be someone he was going to _bond_ to him, in time, once he wooed him. Call him a romantic, but the first drink has to be special.

He wasn’t some prick that was going to just take what he wanted either. He was going to make sure that the boy was happy. Everything would just be _easier_ if he was happy. He wasn’t interested in an unhappy relationship with someone being forced to go along as his bloodmare. Besides, blood tastes sour when it came from someone miserable.

Lance digs the heel of his shoe into the ground, gnawing at his bottom lip. He’d already had blood this week, but just _thinking_ of the boy in his room made his mouth salivate with hunger. That boy was bad for him, very bad. He was going to have to take more blood from _someone_ soon if he didn’t want to starve.

He could help but feel a little disgusted with himself. It felt _wrong_ to take blood from someone else when he had his chosen bride resting in his room. He’d never had a problem before, taking blood from anyone baring their necks, sometime accompanied by a wild night first if he was lucky, but this felt too much like being unfaithful.

That boy didn’t know him though, didn’t owe him anything. And Lance didn’t owe him anything either. But even still, he knew in his barely there soul that this boy was the one, he’d known the moment he looked into those glaring eyes and smelt that spicy hot blood rushing beneath moonlit pale skin. Everything about that beautiful creature had been perfect, from the smell to the struggling fight as he wriggled beneath his burnt and hollowed body.

He was _the one_. 

And, call him a romantic, but it didn’t feel right to pursue others when he had someone he so desperately wanted. It wasn’t a _rule_ , per se, many vampires like himself had several brides. But Lance himself had never seen the appeal. Brides were...special. They were really special, so much so there were some vamps that never risked having one, and Lance doesn’t think he could handle more than a single bride at a time. He’s too devoted, too doting he’s been told, and that was just to the occasional lover.

He’s never had a bride himself, but he’s been told he would _know_ when he found someone he would be good with. That had never seemed true before, but something had just _clicked_ when he saw that violet eyed boy, standing under the protective blanket of darkness, silver blade positioned dangerously.

The beauty hadn’t even hesitated to fight, and Lanced liked that, he liked that a _lot_. He must have a thing for strong people, but a special kind of strong, the kind of strong that Allura had. Yeah, that was it. It was a strange kind of strength that demanded attention and made you feel like they could command mountains to fall.

Lance chuckled to himself, a quiet thing that played off the walls, mixing in to the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. He dug his heels into the floor, black leather digging into the dirt. He turns to  leave, done with checking over the greenhouses. He had things he needed to do tonight, places he needed to be, darlings he needed to woo.

One darling. 

He hopes his darling enjoyed his gifts. The hobby shop had been almost perfectly intact, if dusty. No one had stopped for the paints, or the canvases. Some clever people had stopped for glue and wood working equipment, but everything else had been impressively prefect. It was like stepping back into the past, back four years, the store stuck in time and waiting for the day the workers would come and turn the lights back on for another average day. Lance knew several of his team had stopped just to stare. Hell, he did too, because it was just so depressingly _normal_ and it was sad that it felt _nostalgic_.

He misses the word being large, everything was too quiet now. Bold words from a former nightclub owner, perhaps, but it was true. Lance was an extrovert to the full and he loved people. He loved neon lights, the sounds of the city at night, the clicks and clacks of every sort of night work. The tiny sounds of fluorescent lights and shifting gears, the steam released from hot dog stands, or the sizzling of grills.

Now a days all he heard were the distant sounds of animals scurrying and the growls of ghouls.

The brunette shakes his head as he steps out into the night air. It was humid tonight, and it would probably rain in the morning. His throat burns at the thought; badly.

He needs a drink.

That’s another thing he misses, blood banks. If there were still blood banks he could drink without the guilt of an affair. Blood banks had been so _easy_ to work with too. The blood hadn’t been warm by any means, and it was like trying to chug a cold tomato smoothie more than anything, but it was so _easy_ to get his hands on a blood bag without the casual intimacy of biting someone. Granted, drinking didn’t _have_ to be sexual or intimate, but with the venom in their fangs it could easily turn that way if he bit the right spot and he doesn’t want to do that with someone else, not anymore.

At the same time he couldn’t push his new bride. Love and devotion took time, well, true love and devotion, the kind that vampires and their brides were supposed to hold for each other. Lance couldn’t just walk into the room and take blood from the pale boy and expect him to bend his neck, especially when it was so clear he was traumatized by his time surviving in the wilderness. The brunette still can’t quite wrap his head around it, over three years of running and fighting, clearly used up and beaten down. He doesn’t understand how any human is still alive out there without assistance.

He doesn’t blame his bride for being, frankly, a bit of a mess. Working through that trauma was going to take _time_ and a _lot_ of work. Lance wasn’t entirely sure when it would be safe to even let the boy out of his _room_ , especially with all the vampires living in the community. A violent altercation would definitely break out if one of them started sniffing too close to him.

Not that they would, they knew who was the boss here, and they knew better than to go fucking with another vampire’s bride, especially at his level. Still, he didn’t want _any_ conflict stirring up in the community, and, much as he wanted to protect his bride, he had a strong feeling that the beauty wouldn’t be the one ruined in the conflict.

Not with eyes like those.

The night air was was humid, heavy and wet, the exact kind of weather that made the skin sticky. This was the exact kind of weather he hated too, which irked him more than he would like to admit. It did absolutely nothing for the raging hunger inside him.

He had to talk to Hunk tonight, maybe see about getting a little blood from him. He hated to ask though, not when he knows that Hunk gives out his blood more than other humans within the camp. Still, he was the only one that Lance felt even remotely comfortable taking blood from now that he had a bride waiting.

The Cuban chewed at his bottom lip his stomach twisting and turning as it demanded blood.

Lilith be damned, he needed it.

Lance swerves away from the greenhouses, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he made his way down the half abandoned city. The vamps were the ones working tonight, the humans taking over duties during the day. They paused as he passed, stopping their work rebuilding this sector of the city to watch him storm by. He doesn’t bother to stop and explain where he was going, it wasn’t any of their business, he’s the boss, not them.

The string lights shine down the street, a poor substitute for the streetlights that used to shine, but good enough for the vampires working. Either way it would have to do until the wind turbines and new solar panels were done. It took a long time to get the resources for them, and even then there wasn’t enough to get the city back up to the score Lance would like. Still, progress was progress, and he was doing much better than all the other vamps in the coalition, and especially better than the Galra.

He beelines towards his club, where Hunk would be. His club was the most well lit building in the area, neon lights shining brighter than the string lights woven down the street signs and hanging from crooks in buildings.

Lance doesn’t pause to open the giant double doors gently. He throws them open forcefully, the thick mahogany hitting the wall as he stormed in. What was once a dance floor acted as a dining hall these days, but it was blissfully empty. The humans all slept in a carefully guarded hotel not far away, safe and protected in their new home. Hunk was an exception though, Hunk stayed in the club where it was safest.

Hunk had been a constant companion of his for years, a friend he could trust with the secret of his identity even before everything happened. Between the two of them Lance was certain they could eventually rebuild the city. Hunk, bright and beautiful Hunk, had poured more love into the reconstruction than anyone.

The overwhelming twinge of fondness the vampire feels for his friend is almost overwhelming. He steps past the gathered tables and empty plates towards the kitchen, where Hunk’s room was set up behind.

The kitchen wasn’t overly large, the club having mostly dealt in nachos and other kinds of casual bar foods. Hunk’s room was set up in a former employee lounge in the back. It was a bit impersonal at first, but the Samoan man had managed to make it more homey over time.

Lance snuck past the ovens, all cleaned and turned off for the night. Hunk was always so obsessive about keeping the kitchens clean, even before everything went to hell, but now he was over the top about it almost, afraid that every little crumb would lead to disaster, especially since antibiotics were in such short supply. Of course, before the disaster Hunk had just been a squirrely kid, now he had actual problems.

The Cuban cracks the door open, peeking his head inside. Hunk, who should have been sleeping right now, was seated at a desk, tinkering at some device, tongue bitten between his teeth. 

“Hunk, buddy.” Lance sighed, entering the room, “What are you doing?”

Hunk yelped, jumping a bit and whirling on Lance, clutching his chest, “Lance! Buddy! Don’t scare me like that!”

The tanned vampire ignored his friend, leaning over the desk to see what he was fiddling with. All Lance could tell was that it was metal and wiry, “What is this?”

“Oh.” Hunk scratched his cheek, brown eyes turning back on the object. He poked it with a single pointer finger, eyebrow twitching at it before his brows furrowed together tightly, “I was seeing if I could fix an electric water purifier. See if we can get water cleaned faster.”

“Really?” Lance leaned forward, “Are the normal filters not working well enough?”

“It takes them hours.” Hunk sighed, fingers twirling around a wire, “With this I could get water cleaned and purified in minutes.”

“That sounds useful.” Lance hummed, picking at his nail, “We could get more of those grease eating fish tank things you have in the kitchen.”

“I told you they were a good idea.” Hunk puffed up in pride, grinning widely, “Now not only do we get rid of grease easy and keep the stoves clean, but we also have fish.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance waved off, “You were right, it was a good idea.”

Hunk frowned, eyebrows knitting together again, “Are you okay buddy? You seem a bit short right now? Something wrong with the plants?”

“No.” Lance shook his head, clicking his tongue, “Those green upside down plant things are amazing. The vegetables have never looked better.”

Hunk perked up, a wide smile spreading across his face at the news. The Samoan had a finer pallet when it came to food, and with things being how they were in recent years, access to things like spices and actual vegetables had been somewhat limited. Most of the food and come from cans for a long time, but their colony was finally starting to get their food production up enough that they could start meeting demand, and that meant they weren’t too far away from taking the steps to start experimenting with good food again. “I know! We were very lucky to find them! If we can find some mason jars we can start preparing food for winter without raiding stores for canned foods again.”

“That’s great.” Lance hummed, watching his friend fiddle with the device, blue eyes resting on the wires. He could smell blood thrunming through Hunk’s veins, gushing quickly from excitement. The tanned vampire tilted his head, ear open, listening to the heavy drum of Hunk’s heart. It was a steady, comfortable, sound. Hunk was like that, strong and safe. At the same time he was hesitant to indulge in listening for very long, because the more he did the more he noticed that the blood was a bit thinner than normal, the obvious sign that it had already been shared.

A pang of guilt shot through his stomach. He’d already had blood just last week. For someone like him, with his original eye color, an Elder, that was way too soon to need blood again. It demonstrated just how much damage the boy had done to him when Lance rescued him and his companion. It was also a show of just how badly he wanted, needed, the blood of that sweet fruit tucked safely in his bedroom, ripe and ready and delicious.

The brunette squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. No, he wasn’t going to go up there.

“...Lance?” Hunk’s voice broke soothingly. Lance felt a calloused hand rest on his shoulder gently, heard Hunk as he shifted in his seat, “Are you okay buddy?”

The brunette exhaled, trying to breathe through his mouth. Technically, he didn’t need to breathe, but not breathing used up more energy to keep his body alive than breathing did. He didn’t have energy to waste, and that was both shameful and embarrassing. He was in a tizzy over all this, when they didn’t have the time or resources. He was the only Elder in this community, the rest being gold eyes and the occasional red eyes. They were weaker than him, they needed the blood more often. He shouldn’t be like this, especially when Hunk had already bled himself of blood for one of them.

But Lance had been putting this off for a few nights. Maybe once his bride was ready and willing to bare their neck for him then he wouldn’t have to worry anymore, but for now he was famished. So, so, hungry.

“I need blood Hunk.” Lance admitted weakly, his fingers digging into the wood desk, the faintest sound of cracking filling his ears. It was an admittance of weakness he didn’t want to show, but he knew he had to. He knew better than to hide it though, because that wasn’t healthy to anyone.

“Blood?” Hunk sounded confused, his voice holding a league of unasked questions. His fingers tighten around Lance’s shoulders, and the vampire didn’t need to open his eyes to know that those brown eyes were flashing with concern, “Lance...when you brought back those strangers…”

“They didn’t exactly let me into their hidey hole.” Lance finally cracked open his eyes, grinning at his friend, “My future bride set up some pretty impressive protections around their shelter.” He can’t help the twinge of pride that bleeds through his voice as he says that, because it _was_ impressive. There’s no part of him that isn’t impressed by this insane and beautiful creature he happened upon.

He couldn’t wait to show the boy off to other Elders once he successfully wooed him, and he would, eventually, if the fates were kind. The boy was definitely impressive enough that it wouldn’t take long for him to keep toe to toe with other Elders, Lance was confident in that.

But that wasn’t the issue now. The issue now was how famished he would be if he didn’t drink from someone now.

Hunk flinched, “You shouldn’t have hidden that Lance.”

“I know.” Lance shook his head, “But it was...I had already taken blood just a little before…”

“That doesn’t matter if you burned through the life it gave you, Lance.” Hunk sighed, closing his eyes, fighting off the headache Lance was sure he was giving his friend. Hunk pulled back his hand, pulling off his glove before holding his wrist forward, “Just take what you need Lance, I don’t want you going feral or dying.”

Lance clicked his tongue, the warm smell of Hunk’s blood tempting him. Hunk wasn’t an addictive flavor, but it was blood was strong and filling. Hunk shouldn’t be sharing much more than he already had, but Lance needed some, at least a mouthful. Blue eyes flickered over his friend, “We should get you some food and water first.”

“I squeezed some oranges this morning for those who donated.” Hunk sighed, eyes sliding towards the door to the kitchen, “I was gonna save it for breakfast, but you’re a bit more important.”

Lance forced himself to pull away, darting out the door quickly. He spotted the cooler, darting towards the metal door without hesitation and throwing the door open. Hunk, bless him, was incredibly organized and it was easy to spot the giant jug of orange liquid stored on the shelf, along with the foods the Samoan planned to make for breakfast in the morning. Tanned hands reached for the jug, easily lifting it from the shelf and carrying it out of the cooler, kicking the door open on his way out and making his way back to Hunk’s room.

Hunk was waiting on the edge of the bed, a first aid kit pulled out and set ready next to him, bandages already out for when this was over. Hunk had switched wrists, unwrapping the wrist someone else had fed from probably only a day or so ago. Brown eyes flickered up when Lance entered the room, taking in the sight of the jug. He sighed, closing his eyes again, “You didn’t have to bring the whole thing Lance, that’s enough for over fifty people.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Lance looks at the drink. It’s been a long time since he was human, and sometimes he forgets how much they need to eat. He knows this is too much though, but that just means Hunk will definitely get what he needs. So he places the jug down on the desk, watching the liquid splosh around inside, “Better safe than sorry.”

Hunk smiles at that, “Yeah, better safe than sorry.”

The Samoan pats the mattress beside him, tilting his head to gesture him to sit. Lance frowns, knowing he can’t put this off any longer, moving slowly over and plopping down next to Hunk, “I’m sorry.”

“Lance, buddy, don’t be. It’s not your fault you need to eat.” Hunk chuckles at the vampire, holding his wrist up. Lance can see the fine pinpricks half healed from Hunk’s last donation of blood. Lance’s throat burns terribly now, the scent of blood filling him again, and the sight of teeth marks making something primal and possessive in him act. He leans forward without another thought, fangs elongating out of his jaws, fine as sharp needlepoints. They prick the skin easily, and hearty blood fills Lance’s mouth.

He only means to take a mouthful, enough to last him another week easily, but he ends up taking more. Hunk has to tug his arm away, and Lance growls possessively, eyes snatching up, hissing wildly. Hunk doesn’t even flinch, “I can’t give you more.”

Lance is drunk on blood, music singing in his head, but he’s sane, and he calms down, what he took being more than enough. He’s no newborn redeye, and he’s not starving anymore, he has more control than this. Still, the dark pang of possessiveness fills him as he watches his friend pull his wrist away, already tending to the wounds Lance left behind.

The primitive rumble doesn’t leave Lance as his eyes watch Hunk work, a chorus playing in his head, singing cries of it in his ears. It’s always like this after even the most platonic of feedings, well, if you let the blood donor live. When they died it was no different than taking a bite from an apple. But this, this was something else.

Lance couldn’t imagine what this was going to feel like when it was his bride he was going to take blood from. It was simply all the more reminder that he was going to have to pull back and wait until the boy was wooed, because there was no way Lance was going to be able to keep from fucking him.

The vampire shakes his head, forcing _those_ particular thoughts downward, sharing a look with his friend instead, “Are you going to be okay.”

“I’m going to need to sleep in tomorrow and recover.” Hunk turned and grinned at him, “What about you? Are you feeling better now?”

The brunette paused again. His throat was pleasantly quenched now, and any weakness he’d had before was gone. Still, there was an underlying desire that even Hunk’s blood couldn’t quench, lying beneath his skin, gnawing at him, demanding he go upstairs…

“I’m fine.” Lance falls back against Hunk’s bed, blue eyes staring upwards, ears focusing. He couldn’t hear the boy from here, so he must not be moving around, and the creaks and whistles of the pipes and buzz of electricity overshadowed the sound of any heartbeats and breathing he would have otherwise been able to spot.

The vampire shakes his head again, knowing he’s being foolish, he wouldn’t be able to hear his would-be lover anyway, his room was soundproof. What is he doing with himself? Was he that desperate?

Hunk glances back at the downed vampire, still bandaging his wrist, “You’re probably going to need more and more blood the longer you’re around him you know.”

“I know.” Lance groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, as if that could block out the reality. He could pray to both Caine and Lilith, but neither would change the reality of his situation. Mother Lilith both blessed and damned him when he found the boy.

“He’ll come around.” Hunk sighed, reaching over to grab a long forgotten coffee cup off a stray shelf, holding it under the jug and filtering out some orange juice into the cup, “His brother should be up any day now. I’m sure once he sees his brother is okay then things will start going much more smoothly.”

“You think so?” Lance peeked from under his arm, a sming of hope swelling in him.

“Definitely.” Hunk nodded, taking a sip from his cup, letting out a pleased hum as he drank the orange liquid down. He swallowed, pulling the mug away from his lips and looking down at his friend, “I think he liked those art supplies.”

“Really?” Lance tried not to let the eagerness bleed into his voice, but it was difficult when he was just _so_ happy to finally have done something right wooing the boy. “Did you say anything?”

“He tried to hide it, but he definitely liked it.” Hunk’s lips quirked, “He was picking them up and staring at them. I think he liked them, but he’s probably going to deny it for a while. Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy decided to try and ignore them for a while instead of using them.”

Lance chuckled fondly, chest rumbling in a way it hadn’t since before this mess had begun, “Yeah, he’s the type.”

“You sure picked a stubborn once Lance.” Hunk took another quick drink of his orange juice, “He hasn’t even told us his name yet. It’s been days.”

“I wouldn't like him half as much if he wasn’t.” Lance’s lips quirked, removing the arm from over his eyes, “There’s just something about the stubborn ones, you know? There’s just this...spark in their eyes. I like the fire in them.”

“Hey man, I’m not judging.” Hunk chuckled, moving to lean back against his headboard, kicking off his shoes as he sat back, still weak from the bloodloss, “You do you.”

“That’s not who I want to be doing.” Lance wriggled a brow at him.

“Gross.” Hunk nudged him with his big toe, “I don’t want to hear about your sexual escapades with a guy whose name you don’t even know yet.”

“You’re just jealous that I found myself a beauty to rival the stars.” Lance teased, wriggling his brows again, “While you haven’t even found a girlfriend yet.”

“Bold words for a man who's supposed bride would rather stake you through the heart than breathe the same air as you.” Hunk snorted goodnaturedly.

“Maybe for now.” Lance pushed himself up, meeting Hunk’s eyes with a confident grin, “But I’m confident in my ability to woo him. Things may have gotten off to a rocky start, but I’m a master of romance, and I’ve learned from the best of the best how to seduce.”

“If you say so.” Hunk had _absolutely no right_ to sound so doubtful, but he did anyway. “Just don’t go chaining him to the bed again...unless he asks you to.”

“Hunk.” Lance scoffed, “I’m offended. You know that was extenuating circumstances.”

“Extenuating circumstances that pissed the guy off.” Hunk pointed out, clicking his tongue, “I thought the guy was gonna, like, eat me for a second. Ghoul style. And tell me that I tasted terrible while he was doing it.”

“And you question my priorities.” Lance snorted again, wrinkling his nose in distaste, “A guy is eating you and you’re worried about his opinion.”

“Hey, if I’m going to be eaten, I might as well taste good.” Hunk laughed, fully aware of how ridiculous the conversation was at this point. He straightened out though, meeting Lance’s eyes fully, calming down, “But, seriously though, don’t go overboard man. This guy has some serious issues. Don’t forget that he’s been running around the woods chased by vampires for three and a half years, he’s probably not in the best state.”

“That’s why we’re keeping him in my room Hunk,” Lance said this slowly, and half sarcastically. “Trust me, I know. I’m going to give this the time it deserves.”

“I’m just telling you to be ready.” Hunk cracked his neck, settling himself more comfortably on the bed, sneaking his feet under the sheets, “This romance is going to be slowburn.”

“Uggh, don’t remind me.” Lance groaned, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling, staring where the boy in question would be, “Why can’t people fall fast and hard into this inferno like I do?”

“Because that’s infatuation buddy.” Hunk stated, smile twitching, “You want to go all deep and stuff, like Pride and Prejudice.” Hunk paused for a moment, his face brightening as if someone just hit the switch in his brain, “Lance! You’re Pride and Prejudice!” 

“I’m Darcy?” Lance grinned, “Yessssss.”

“Go, Mr. Darcy.” Hunk commanded, looking to the side as if he were staring into some great distance, “Go to your Elizabeth.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve told me to do that I’m ever going to actually listen to.” Lance grinned throwing himself off the bed, walking backwards and saluting his friend as he backed out the door, Hunk’s voice calling after him as he finally turned around and fled, “Don’t actually ignore me though! And remember not to overdo it!”

The tanned vampire didn’t heed Hunk’s parting words, heart too light and body too satisfied. He hummed a tune under his breath, footsteps echoing against the walls as he crossed the kitchen and left to find the stairs.  

He liked the idea that his romance could be like Pride and Prejudice, because that meant there was a happy ending within reach. Through a rocky start and misunderstandings he’ll get his happy ending. Or, he thinks so, it’s been a while since he read the book, back when it first came out, but he remembers it had a happy ending.

Finding his blue velvet covered spiral staircase, Lance began his ascent to the third floor, where his private rooms and offices were. His footsteps echoed much louder in the enclosed stairwell, no doubt alerting the guards to his approach.

Stepping into the hall of the third floor, two sets of golden eyes landed on him, both women staring silently and unblinking at him. Lance hummed, strolling over towards the girls, “Hello ladies, anything happen while I was gone?”

They stared at him, unanswering.

“Did you see anything suspicious then?” Lance asked, prompting them to speak. They shook their heads instead, completely in sync, which was weird in his good opinion, but hey, they were good at their jobs, which was to stand there and guard the door.

“Alright then, thanks.” Lance waved absentmindedly, pushing just past them to enter the room.

That...was a mistake. 

As soon as he stepped into the room, it felt like his foot burst into flames. He screamed, pulling back and jerking away from the sudden pain. His two guards jumped into action, one catching him while the other moved to find out what had happened. Lance jerked, up reaching out to stop her, “No! Don’t!”

The guard screamed as her hand burned, pulling the limb away from inside the door, skin boiling, dripping bits of burnt flesh onto the hardwood floor, thankfully missing the velvet, though that felt much less important compared to the fact his foot was burned now and his guard’s hand was half melted all over the fucking floor.

“What in the name of Lilith’s seven hells?” Blue eyes jerked up, peering into the room.

His bride was huddled on the bed, curled into a ball, breathing heavily, head between his hands. He was rocking back and forth, obviously _not_ okay. The room was in disarray, several things having been thrown across the room and onto the floor. All over the walls were dozens of stark white pieces of paper, black or red ink smeared with symbols that looked vaguely Asian in origin.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. 

“What’s wrong?” Lance called out, forcing his way inward, hissing in pain as his foot worked to reform itself. He leaned against the wall, eyes glaring into the room, a horrific mix of poisonous worry and terrible anger filling him. Not anger at him, never him, but whatever demons haunted him that pushed him to this. “Are you alright?”

“Go away!” The boy’s words are scratchy, horrible. His hands are shaking, his voice is shaking, his teeth are clattering. “Just leave me alone.”

“What happened? Why are you acting like this?” Lance hisses, the pain throbbing through him, but the worry burns harder, the deep possessiveness he feels for the boy, huddled hurt and scared in _his_ room, in the heart of his domain, _his_ bride to be. “What did this to you?”

The boy shook his head, “Go away! Leave!”

Lance did not leave, he absolutely did not leave. The uninjured guard moved to help the injured one, helping the wounded vampire to her feet as she went through the agonizing pain of regrowth. Lance growled, glaring into the room, forcing his eyes to flicker over everything, trying to find some sign of what could have caused this. But there was nothing but a mess, nothing that coul-

Doubtlessly glowing blue eyes landed on his prized portrait of the ocean, a large glob of white paint covering where there was once a beautiful depiction of the sea, as if someone had thrown a whole can straight into it. He loved that painting, it was the closest to the ocean he could get when he was first turned, it helped him through the bad times when he was first going through life as a red-eyed young child. It’s loss burned in him, leaving in its wake an irrational anger that had him snapping, “Did you do that?”

“I said go away!” The raven haired boy shouted, not looking up from where his face was firmly buried in his knees. Lance’s sharp eyes took in his red flushed face, his humiliation standing out starkly against his skin. The tanned vampire forced himself to focus past the pain, ears sharpening as he listened to the shallow breaths, every hitch and stutter, to the rapid beat of his heart, to the blood flowing through him. The warm aroma of his blood, sweet and spicy like brown sugar and hot chai on the tongue. He’s panicked, that much anyone could tell by just looking at him, but it’s clear he’s just come out of some kind of episode.

The anger cools a bit, icy fear working it’s way into his soul, creeping its way. What had caused this? What had set off such a bad episode? This place should have been safe. At least from anything that could remind him of living out in the woods being hunted by vampires.

Blue eyes flickered back toward the raven haired beauty, his heart dropping as the boy remained in his position, now utterly still outside the minute shaking of his body. His soul panged then, resentment slowly ebbing away at the sight of such a creature huddled like that. It didn’t look right on him, it didn’t _feel_ right on him, not that fiery creature he found in that house, knife ready and a thousand sparks in his eyes.

The vampire can’t help himself, he reaches out for him, hand breaking the barrier into the room. It burns, it burns worse than the talismans his to-be-lover had placed on the walls of his previous shelter, and his skin boils. He pushes forward anyway, determined to wipe that sinful sight from the Earth.

He doesn’t hesitate to let the rest of his body follow, ignoring the hisses of his two guards as he falls into the bedroom, skin sizzling. He falls to his knees, pain overwhelming, and he can’t move. He’s irrational, he’s in pain, and now he’s on his knees for a boy who should not have been able to put a creature such as he there.  

Lance would chuckle if he could, but all he can do is look up.

Violet eyes have looked up, wide and tearstained, fearful for only a moment before twisting into something hateful. His lips are pulled into a snarl, sharp glare burning more painful than the talismans could. But Lance relishes it, relishes that fire returning, it’s proof of the strength hidden beneath the illusion of fragility. “What are you _doing_? I said leave.”

The brunette can’t stand, can’t reach out to caress that cheek and make sure the boy is okay. He’s too weak to comfort. But he’s always been a talker, and that’s always been what people notice first about him, so he speaks instead, with a raspy and dried out voice of his own he speaks, “Are you okay?”

“You’re _melting_.” The boy hisses, shaking his head in disbelief, moving forward and off the bed, standing on wobbling legs and moving forward just enough to be out of reach before crashing to his knees, “You should be a bit more worried about yourself.”

“I’ll heal.” Lance insists even as he’s left on his knees, not even able to lift his hand, “What happened? What caused this?”

“Nothing.” The boy hisses again, shaking his head, jerking to a stop, “Nothing. I freaked out over nothing. Just like you’re melting over nothing you stupid bat. What kind of fool _crawls_ into a place that they know can melt them.”

“You were panicking.” Lance says it without any hesitation, honest and true as he’s ever been, “I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

Those violet eyes flash with something for a moment, just a moment, and Lance thinks he said the right thing. His soul lifts, joy filling his lungs, and he finds the strength to move his arms again, reaching out to try and touch the boy’s cheek.

Unfortunately, the beauty is just out of reach. 

The raven haired boy rises back to his feet, violet eyes glaring down at the vampire as he moves forward, “I could leave these up, let you melt, or grab one off the wall and hit you with it.”

“You’ll die.” Lance states honestly. He doesn’t elaborate.

“Maybe.” The boy hums, eyes lightening from the glare, thoughtful but full of that lovely spark that had attracted Lance to him in the first place, “But I’ve always been willing to do stupid shit to get what I want. And I want to see my brother.”

Lance laughs, “That was always going to happen my dear.”

The heat of the beauty’s gaze is cooling at his answer, and something like pity slowly creeping inside of him, “You look pathetic like this, not like the monsters in the woods.”

“You did this.” Lance fires back. 

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had taken me to my brother.” The boy sighs, an old tiredness weighing on him, his body deflating just a bit, “That’s all I wanted.”

It’s not the root of the problem, it’s not what caused him to make dozens of talismans and paste them all over the walls. The boy has pushed away panic, replacing the fear and anxiety with hate, but even that’s fading now under the proof of his power, nothing but weariness finally catching up to him. Over three years of constant anger finally taking its toll, and Lance wants to take him in his arms and whisper it will be alright, but the boy stands tall anyway, and that may be the truest proof of all that he was right about the boy.

“I want to see my brother.” The boy states one last time, clicking his tongue, “Promise me, and I’ll get you out of this room.”

And that’s it, any doubt he’d had was gone. Lance forces himself up, forcing his limbs to move, forcing himself up, forcing himself to stand tall just one last time, reaching forward to finally cup the now surprised boy’s cheek. He smiles as those violet eyes widen, body freezing as Lance presses his palm against the pale flesh.

“I wish you’d tell me what was wrong.” Lance smiled, staring at that surprised face, “I just want to help you.

“...I already did…” The boy lies, or maybe doesn’t realize he’s lying. Lance exhales, half in pain and have in frustration, falling forward against the pale body, forehead pressing against the narrow shoulder, darkening edges of the world blurring his vision.

And, oh, did his bride smell so good. Pain numbed from the power of it, just a bit, just a little bit, but it did. Lance inhaled the scent, aroma so, so, tempting. He wouldn’t give in though, even through the pain, not until he knew that this boy could really be his.

_Mine. Mine, mine, minemineminemine._

Possessiveness was in his nature though, and he was weak. He was so weak, and everything hurt. So he pushed forward and knocked them both back, a few steps, then pinned him against the bed. The boy let out a startled noise, his fists beating against Lance’s already half damaged skin, leaving easy bruises and welts where a human would normally be incapable of such, “ _Let me go_!”

“Shhhh.” Lance whispered, half mad with pain and desire. He brushed his hands, still burnt and boiled, through those raven locks, unfortunately leaving behind grime in his wake. It was a shame, his bride has such lovely hair. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t ever hurt you. Just relax. Relax.”

“ _Getoff._ ” His words were slurred together in his panic, “Getoffgetoffgetoff.”

Lance didn’t let go though, holding on and taking the panicked swings happily. In another situation they wouldn’t hurt at all, but he was proud of the punches, proud of how much it hurt. This was just more proof of how utterly fantastic this boy was, how amazing he could be with a little polishing. Maybe other vampires would call him a fool for taking such a dangerous bride, but they couldn’t see how tantalizing it was, how wonderful it was. There was something addicting about the idea of a creature like this wanting to be with you, wanting to give their blood to you in symbiotic bless.

And, perhaps selfishly, he loved the chase as much as the end result.

Raven locks of hair clung to his skin, liquid leaking from the boils. His skin would heal soon, was healing now, but  with as many talismans around as this boy placed it wouldn’t be long before his healing factor stopped working altogether and more damage would be done. He should get out, every survival instinct said he should, but another wanted to take this boy with him. So he stays their, brushing that hair, “Shhh, darling, shhhh.”

“No.” The boy doesn’t calm down like he wants, instead only struggling harder, pushing at Lance’s chest now, “No, no, no.”

“Darling, tell me what’s wrong.” Lance cooed, stroking his face. He knows he’s a sight right now, half-burned, teeth probably elongated, eyes glowing, but he wasn’t here before, when his will-be-lover lost himself, and he’s determined to find the cause. “You have to tell me, love, or I can’t fix it.”

Those violet eyes are hazed and dilated, blown wide with fear and panic. His sharp face is paled, sweating, lips quivering as his gaze meets Lance’s own, seeing something the vampire doesn't think is really there, “Sh-sh…”

“Hmm…” Lance tilts his head, trying to get a better listen, “What is it baby? What’s wrong?”

“ _Shark!_ ” The boy finally screams, losing control and struggling increasing, “ _S_ _hark! Shark!_ ” 

The tanned vampire jerks back, not having expected the answer. He tries to hold the boy down, but pure fear and adrenaline have the frightened thing pushing him off, “ _Shiro! Shark!”_

“Darling! Darling!” Lance reaches out a hand, catching the boy by the elbow, pulling him back into the vampire’s embrace, this time from behind. The raven haired boy struggles, but Lance just squeezes his arms tighter, burying his nose in the other’s hair, “Shhh, shhh, there are no sharks here. We’re safe.”

“No.” The boy groaned, “No, no, no.”

“You’re safe here.” Lance shushes, breathing against the boy’s hair, “There’s no shark here.” 

The boy kicks back, “Let me go, let me go. Shiro, Shiro. I want to see Shiro.”

“Shhhh.” Lance whispers against the shell of his ear now, “Soon, he’s not well right now, but soon.”

If Lance had known the boy was, apparently, scared of sharks he’d have had his painting moved to his office instead. Now his oversight had cost him both his lover’s comfort and a precious momento. It wouldn’t be something that would happen again, Lance would make sure of it. For now, though, he worked to soothe his lover, whispering sweet comforts into the shell of his ear, soothing the fears away.

“Shiro…” The voice whispered weakly, his voice scratched and damaged, “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, love, it’s not your fault.” Lance comforted, “It’s mine. I didn’t know, I’ll do better next time.”

The boy slumped against him weakly, his energy drained, the will to fight not leaving, but body giving out from the sheer mental drain. His head fell back, neck exposed in a beautiful arch that was too much for someone as weak as he.

“Darling…” His voice shattered into a broken whisper, “I want...I want...please...please...just a bite.”

Lance can’t see the boy’s eyes, the back of that raven head landing against his shoulder and hiding them from sight, but the groan he gives is music. He’s not fighting anymore, and his voice is weak as he whispers, “Please…”

It’s all the permission Lance needs to lick along the arch of that neck, slow and sensual, and bite.

And oh, the taste.

If Hunk’s blood was hearty and filling, then this was...was something else. It was like this boy was personally made to please his taste, the sense of that warm blood causing Lance’s abused veins to _sing_ with the thrill of it.

“Ah-Ah...ah, ah, ahhh~” His darling moaned against him, the effects of the bite sinking into his blood now, the venom from his fangs and the place he’d bitten working to create an orgasmic bliss, “Mmmmaa ah!”

Lance can feel his body singing, can feel it working, healing, renewed by the blood and the success of taking his bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Too bad S8 was canceled, huh? Oh well, we can probably write better endings anyway.
> 
> It's been a rough couple of weeks, but I think we're all going to be okay. Fluff mom is still here for you all and she's convinced in the good in this fandom still. We're the the only ones to get burned by our fandom, but we're still kicking. Sherlock, Firefly, etc, plenty of fandoms have survived bad endings and such, and we will too.

**Author's Note:**

> BBell: I should work on my other projects.  
> Also Me: Write a Vampire AU.  
> BBell: But I hate Vampire AUs!!!  
> Also Me: Do it!!!!!!


End file.
